#I think their romance is very macabre and unconventional | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flutteringphalanges · 4 years

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Summary: It is public knowledge that Zoe Van Helsing is the last of her blood line. Not to mention that, in a sense, Count Dracula is too. However, after an unexpected night of passion, both their lives dramatically change when Zoe becomes pregnant. Two unconventional parents, one extraordinary pregnancy. What could go wrong?

Rating: M

Pairings: Zoe Van Helsing/Dracula implied Agatha/Dracula

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A/N: Holy cow! This is one of the longest chapters I’ve written for anything in a long time! I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is greatly loved and appreciated! Stay safe and healthy! -Jen

Chapter Five

Courtship. The ideology behind romance to begin with never had settled with Zoe. If anything, one might argue she was married to her work. Dedicated. She'd had no time for dating, especially when it came to Count Dracula. But there she was, standing in a clothing store, feeling as if the very walls were closing in on her because she let it slip to one of her friends that she had an evening planned with a man that night.

"So you aren't even going to tell me who?" Meg, a fellow scientist at the Jonathan Harker Foundation, asked with a wide grin. "Is it Randall from Security?"

"Yes, because I find a man who sucks cheese puff powder off of his fingers and lacks the decency to use deodorant highly attractive," Zoe rolled her eyes. "And it isn't a date. It's more like a business meeting."

"He's cooking you dinner, Zo," the woman laughed, rifling through a rack of dresses. "If that doesn't spell romantic, I don't know what does. Here," she thrust a floral printed pink dress into the other woman's arms. "Anyway, can you at least humor me with where you met lover boy?"

"Oh God," the scientist moaned. "Please do not refer to him as that. Ever. I just started to get over my morning sickness." Zoe paused, trying to ignore Meg's pleading expression. "...If you must know, we met on the beach." She decided not to go with any further details on that account. The last thing she needed was for Meg to eventually put two and two together.

Meg squealed like a teenager and it took every bit of Zoe's energy not to conk her in the head. "That is literally the picture perfect setting for a romance novel. Oh, and this one," she draped another dress, this one yellow spotted, over the pregnant woman's forearm. "Is he cute? Tall, dark, and handsome?"

"Tall and dark," the other woman muttered. "But not in the way you're thinking." Macabre was a more fitting description. Handsome she didn't intend on going down that path. "Really, Meg, I appreciate the help, but this isn't a date. I'm just going over to chat. And trust me, it's the last thing I want to do." Hoping maybe to prove her point more, she motioned to the dresses. "I shouldn't even bother wearing something nice."

"Oh please, Zoe, you need new clothes anyway," Meg exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "Your closet looks like you came from the late 1800's." She shook her head, ignoring the other woman's glare. "Besides, you're pregnant. You need to expand your wardrobe to accommodate, well…"

Meg didn't need to finish her statement for Zoe to know what she was getting at. Absentmindedly, the scientist's free hand rested on the swell of her stomach. Accommodation. That certainly was one way to put it. It was better than openly expressing that she was outgrowing her normal clothes. Twice as fast as most expecting women. She had the twins to thank for that.

"I suppose there isn't any harm in stocking up." The woman finally admitted, Meg's eyes lighting up at her friend's surrender. "But I'm not doing it for him. There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good for myself."

"Whatever you say, Zoe." Meg smirked, taking a few dresses from her as they walked to the counter. "Anyway, he sounds like the ideal guy. I mean, showing interest in you despite the fact that you're about to have not one, but two babies." She paused, turning to meet her friend's gaze. "He does know you're pregnant right?"

Oh did he ever. It was his fault anyway. He'd been the one to knock her up in the first place. But admitting that to someone like Meg. Someone, who despite she loved dearly, had an issue with keeping her mouth shut and spreading the world's secrets to all. She inhaled, laying the dresses onto the counter before settling on an answer.

"Yes," she replied. And it wasn't exactly a lie. Just not the full truth. "He is aware of my pregnancy. It doesn't seem to concern him." Not in the slightest unfortunately.

"Who knows," Meg grinned widely. "Maybe if things work out, he could be your dream daddy! Knight of the dirty diapers! King of spit up, clean up! The royal…" She stopped abruptly when Zoe shot her a disapproving glare. "Look, Zo, all I'm saying is that this can be really good for you. Give the man a chance. Whoever he is. You of all people deserve to be happy."

"Yeah." Zoe muttered un-enthusiastically, retrieving her credit card from her purse. "If you say so."

Her idea of true happiness was being away from that vampire as far as possible. Especially with their-her children on the way. Christ, Meg merely suggesting that Dracula being the ideal family man and husband…No, she'd certainly have none of that.

As she grabbed the bulging bags of dresses and followed Meg out, she made a mental note to make a mock-tail of some sort once she arrived back home. She couldn't have alcohol, but she could at least pretend. Maybe then the disturbing images would vanish from her mind. Hopefully.

XXX

"If it were me, I'd go with that baggy pair of sweatpants of yours and that stained t-shirt in the closet? You know the one I'm referring to. I believe it's blue and has the name of that fish and chips restaurant you like so much?"

Zoe did her best to ignore Agatha's advice as she slipped into a navy blue dress. Simple. Nothing that particularly stood out. She didn't want to impress him, but at least look presentable at the clinic. Studying herself in the mirror, it was hard not to smile a little when her eyes landed on her stomach. What an odd thought it was knowing that two tiny...well, half humans had inhabited her womb. Growing rapidly day by day. Soon enough she'd be able to hold both of them in her arms-something she was greatly looking forward to.

"Despite your clear assumption, I am not dressing for Count Dracula." Zoe said as she glimpsed at her late niece's reflection in the glass. "I'm just fond of this dress."

"Yes, but you don't tend to wear those very often do you?" The woman frowned deeply at the ghost's words. "Do not go down an even slipperier slope, Zoe. Vampires are tricksters. He could reel you in before you even realized that he had."

"Patronizing me wouldn't get you anywhere." The scientist exclaimed as she gave her appearance one last look. "I am far more intelligent than you give me credit for. Not that this is, or has been, any of your concern to begin with."

Before the spirit could reply, there was a rhythmic knock at the front door. Grinding her teeth together, Zoe strode over and peered through the peephole. She was met by Dracula's wide grin as he stared right back at her. When he gave a friendly wave, she couldn't help but groan and pulled the door open.

"Are you going to invite me in?" The vampire inquired pleasantly. "You look quite lovely by the way. That dress does wonders." It was hard to tell if it was a genuine compliment or blatant sarcasm. It was difficult to know with him. "Well?"

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice…" Zoe exhaled as she stepped to the side. "Count Dracula, it is a great honor to allow you passage into my humble abode."

"Moody I see." Dracula commented as he entered. "Though I do appreciate the flair for the dramatic." His eyes immediately fell to her stomach, lips curving into a grin. "Twelve weeks?"

"Thirteen," she muttered. Christ, why did he have to stare at her like that? "We should get going if we don't want to be late. I could've just met you there, you know. I know how to operate a vehicle."

"I just thought this would allow us more bonding time." The Count responded as he reached to grab Zoe's fleece jacket from the coat rack. She didn't take it. "It's cold." He remarked with a slight frown. "And the waiting room is just as chilly."

"I'll take my chances." The scientist replied, pushing past the man.

She could feel Agatha's eyes staring at the back of her neck as she went. It didn't help matters when Dracula decided to bring the coat along anyway. Why was it so hard for people to just listen to her? When the vampire opened up the car door to let her in, she grew even more irritated. The Count could act as gentlemanly as he liked, but he'd always be just a bloodthirsty killer. Literally.

"Are you always so anti-social?" Dracula asked as he pulled onto the road. "You know, that isn't how you make friends."

"Shut up," Zoe grumbled. "And I'll have you know, I have plenty of friends."

"Really? Like who?"

The scientist snorted loudly at his question. "Do you honestly think I'd tell you? The last thing I need is for you to go about draining them dry." She folded her arms over her chest and stared idly out of the window. "I don't need you invading my social circles."

"That's a shame." He exhaled, though his disappointment was clearly false. "I came across this lovely little app that allows you to hook up with people."

Zoe grew rigid in her seat. An app? What was he talking about? "What do you mean an app?" The woman asked, trying not to sound at all interested. "A dating app?"

"Well," he shrugged. "I suppose you could use it for that. But I use it for other things."

She knew what he meant. It didn't take an expert. And yet, the idea that he was using it to find "victims" didn't upset her. No. No, it was the fact that it was a dating app. A strange sensation began to bubble in the pit of her stomach. An emotion that almost horrified her at the thought. Jealousy.

"Those things are rigged." She explained, trying to maintain her cool. "You could easily be cat-fished. I would've expected you to be smarter than to use some silly old site." Why should she even care? Why did she care? "I wouldn't bother with one of those."

Dracula looked at her in amusement as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of reacting further, she got out of the car and began to speed walk towards the entrance. She was so caught up in trying to get away from him that she didn't notice the small pot hole in the pavement. The tip of her shoe caught itself on the edge sending Zoe tumbling towards the ground. Just as she was about to hit the pavement, someone grabbed her from behind.

"Didn't anyone teach you not to run in the street?"

Zoe, still a little shaken, turned her head to see that her "hero of the day" was none other than the Lord of Darkness himself. Pulling away from his awkward embrace, she stabilized herself. He wasn't smirking. Or chuckling for that matter. Actually, he looked a little concerned.

"Are you alright?" He ventured, his eyes scanning her.

"I'm...fine," she decided. "Thank you for that." Blood began to rush to her cheeks and suddenly she felt rather hot. "Let's just go in. We're already running late."

Neither spoke as they made their way to the Obstetrics and Gynecology ward. Something that Zoe was more than fine with. After she signed in, she took her seat beside Dracula-who, currently, was immersed in a magazine about water birth.

"This sounds intriguing." He commented, pointing to an image of a very pregnant woman sitting in a plastic tub with her partner. "Shall I tear it out for future reference?"

"I'm not getting naked in a tub with you!" She hissed, snatching the paper away. "Giving birth or for pleasure."

Tossing the magazine aside, Zoe was relieved when a nurse leaned out of the door and called her back. Dracula was the first to rise, offering his hand to the doctor to help her up. Ignoring him completely, the woman stood up unaided and the two filed into the back.

"Go behind the curtain while I change into the gown." Zoe instructed as she snatched up the folded clothes. "I'll let you know when you can come out."

"I've already seen you naked before." Dracula called out as she yanked the blind in front of him. "And I'm sure it will happen again!"

"In your dreams." Zoe muttered, slipping into the outfit. God, how unsightly it made her look. Frowning, she ran a hand through her hair. "Alright, you're allowed back in."

Dracula grinned as he reappeared. "I preferred the other dress," he commented. "But I suppose I could also adjust to this one."

Before Zoe could snap back, the door opened and Dr. Clyde strode in. He smiled at the two, clearly not realizing the current feud happening. Throwing one last glare at Dracula, the scientist slid onto the examination table and forced a smile onto her face.

"Zoe, it's so lovely to see you." Dr Clyde expressed giving her a warm handshake. "And you as well." Dracula smirked at the recognition and the woman did her best not to snarl. "Let's have a look at your twins. It's been a few weeks, hasn't it."

The paper lining the bed crinkled as Zoe laid back feeling uncomfortably exposed. As the obstetrician pulled the ultrasound machine over, the vampire moved closer to her side. If he tried to reach for her hand, she would, without a doubt, do her best to rip it off.

"And how have you been feeling?" The doctor asked, preparing the gel to smear across her abdomen. "Nausea starting to settle down? Any spotting or bleeding?"

"None." Zoe replied, going slightly ridged as the cold slime touched her bare skin. "I've been feeling okay."

"That's perfect," Dr. Clyde grinned, grabbing the probe. "That's exactly what we liked to hear!" He began to run the device across her lower stomach. "And…" Suddenly, the room was filled with the sound of familiar thumping. It was as if a weight had been lifted off Zoe's shoulders. "There we go! Heartbeats located!"

Dracula and Zoe both peered up at the screen at the two blobs that looked much more human in appearance. Their blobs. The vampire smiled proudly as he studied the images carefully.

"Are they healthy?" Dracula asked, turning to the doctor. "Functional?" Functional. Zoe rolled her eyes at the word. "Why are they so close together?"

"Actually, a very valid question." The man smiled, taking his mouse to point at what seemed to be a thin line. A membrane. "It's around this stage that we can confirm what sort of twins we are dealing with. Fraternal or identical, I mean. And your two…" Again, he pointed at the screen. "Are, without a doubt, identical."

Identical. Identical. Jesus H. Christ. She was giving birth to clones! Well, not clones in the sense of copies of something. Well, they would look just like each other. How the hell was she supposed to tell them apart?! She didn't sign up to be pregnant. She didn't sign up for twins. And she sure as Hell didn't anticipate them being carbon copies of each other!

"Zoe? Zoe, are you alright?"

It was the sound of Dracula's voice that snapped her back into reality. When their eyes met, she was surprised how genuinely concerned he looked. Evidently her internal panic attack must've been a little external. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. It was going to be okay. Everything was going to be just fine. She just needed to keep her grip on the string of her balloon of sanity and not let go.

"I'm fine." She assured them, nodding her head. "Just a lot to take in."

The two little creatures on the screen moved. Zoe watched as their little stubby limbs disappearing in and out of view as the doctor guided the probe around. Identical. She was still in utter shock, there was no denying that, but she already loved them dearly. Even though their father was Dracula. And that she might lose her mind figuring out which baby was which. They were her's and God she'd do anything for them.

"When can we learn the gender?" Zoe asked, her attention turning to the doctor. "Is it too soon?"

"Not for awhile, I'm afraid." Dr. Clyde admitted, wiping a towel across Zoe's midsection. "It's easiest to tell around eighteen to twenty weeks. There are ways to test earlier, but I'd suggest waiting. You're only a month or two away."

Zoe couldn't help but scowl as Dracula immediately grabbed the ultrasound images from the OBGYN. Proudly, he carefully folded them up and slipped them into his wallet. She made a mental note to attempt to reclaim them later on. They were equally her's after all.

"It was wonderful seeing you both again and I'm glad things are going well." Dr. Clyde smiled as he walked the couple out. "I'll have the receptionist schedule you for an appointment in a few weeks. Just to keep track since you are high risk. But no concerns whatsoever right now." He paused in the doorway. "If you have any questions, please feel free to call me and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible!"

It had begun to rain as they exited the hospital. When Dracula produced an umbrella, Zoe was not too shocked by it. The vampire always seemed to have many tricks up his sleeve. Though the idea of being close to him made her shutter, being wet wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling. Sucking it up, she got underneath and kept up his pace.

The drive from the clinic to Dracula's flat wasn't a long one which spared the need for small talk. Already the storm had begun to pass, the light of the moon reflecting in the puddles. The vampire seemed to move with more purpose and Zoe couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to avoid looking into them. Finally reaching the front door, the Count grabbed the knob and pulled it open.

"Ladies first." He smiled, motioning for the woman to enter.

Zoe frowned softly, but did as he said. Her eyes scanned the room as she took in the sight around her. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The past few times she visited, every appeared to be in order. Placing her purse on a nearby table, she took a seat on a leather couch. It felt surprisingly good to be off her feet.

"It's nice to have someone to cook for that I don't intend on having for dinner later." Dracula commented, moving towards the fridge to retrieve some ingredients. "I'll have you know I went great lengths to make this perfect. Farm's markets don't operate at night. I had to send Frank out to purchase what I needed." The smirk that plastered itself on his face made her want to smother him with a pillow. "Only the best for the mother of my children."

She didn't give him the satisfaction of a response as she settled back into the soft cushions. Exhaustion. That feeling was becoming more apparent as her pregnancy progressed. Though she dared not admit that to Dracula. He'd insist on her staying the night and she knew what happened last time when she did that.

"Where did you even learn to cook?" The scientist asked, hoping that talking would keep her alert. "It's not like you need to eat regular food."

"Over the years you pick up skills." Dracula replied simply, dumping chopped vegetables into a sizzling pan. "Besides, I have guests to impress. It wouldn't look good if I wasn't a proper host."

"No," she sighed. "I guess it wouldn't."

It was almost relaxing observing him work. He did so with surprising grace. Zoe couldn't help but secretly wish Agatha was here to berate her for her decisions. At least that would've stifled the yawn she'd been trying so hard to suppress.

"Tired are we?" The vampire inquired, looking up from a pot of boiling water. "You are more than welcome to lay down and take a snooze."

"I'm fine." Zoe insisted, forcing her eyes to open wider as she pushed herself up. "I'm just bored."

"The remote is on the lamp table beside you." He informed her as he returned his attention to the food. "There are hundreds of channels to watch on there. Surely you can find one to suit your desires."

Television hadn't exactly been a preferred choice of entertainment for Zoe. A novel or, at the most, an audio-book was more her style. Despite that, she grabbed the clicker and turned the thing on. Flipping through the channels, she skimmed through the various sports, music competitions, before deciding on BBC Knowledge. Nothing wrong with a good, old documentary.

As she watched the bold logo appear on the screen her nerves began to settle. At least her mind could be focused elsewhere than her current, problematic situations. That immediately changed when the title of the episode popped up: An Exploration into the Lives of Nuns Throughout the Centuries. Immediately she clicked it off, tossing the remote to the side.

"Done already?" Dracula asked, eyeing her with a cocked brow.

"Nothing of interest," she lied. "Are you almost finished? I'd like to get home at a decent hour."

"You're in luck." The vampire replied, grabbing a plate of something. Whatever it was, the smell wafted through the air. Intoxicating. Rich. And her stomach growled with hunger. "Come sit at the table."

Reluctantly, she stood up and made her way over to the dining room table. There were at least two positives when it came to having dinner with Dracula. The first being that even if she wasn't pregnant, he wouldn't poison her. That would certainly ruin his meal. And, of course, the obvious one. She was carrying his children. He seemed very intent on having a part in their lives-even though she was very intent on keeping that from happening.

"What is it?" Zoe asked as she sat down, eyeing the plate warily as he placed it in front of her.

Thick, speckled with herbs spaghetti noodles drenched in a rich, red sauce that was topped with a breaded piece of meat-chicken perhaps-sat before her on a white plate. God, did it look good. Almost too good to eat. She looked to Dracula who was smiling proudly at his dish.

"Chicken Parmesan." He stated as he took the seat opposite of her. "With less garlic than the recipe called for, of course." How thoughtful. "Well go on," he nodded. "At least try it."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she grabbed her fork. Taking the smallest amount possible on the tongs, she placed the bite into her mouth. So one could really experience an orgasm in their mouth. Zoe chewed it carefully, savoring the flavors.

"Well?" The Count ventured. "What's my Yelp rating?"

"It's...edible…" She admitted as she went in for another forkful. "I'm impressed that you know how to do more than just suck blood."

"I appreciate the compliment." He smiled, folding his hands onto the table. "Now, now that we're settled down, I think we should talk about the twins." The scientist stiffened at his statement. "We have our differences, Zoe. But I have an equal right over them too."

"They're babies," she glowered. "They aren't something to trade around like a prize. After all of your literal crimes against humanity, what makes you think you are suited to be a father? I'm willing to fight you for them." It wouldn't be that easy and she very well knew it. It just felt good to threaten him. "You don't deserve a family."

"A rather harsh statement." The vampire replied with a nod. "But I suppose I have done some questionable things in that past." He paused before adding. "And perhaps in the present as well." Dracula leaned back in his seat and continued. "Although, it isn't fair of you to immediately assume that I would be a toxic parent without allowing me to prove myself first."

Zoe let out a sharp laugh. "What makes you think you have the right to even ask me to do that?" Her fork clanked against the bottom of her dish. "It was my mistake of even telling you that I was pregnant in the first place. I should've kept my mouth shut. Then I wouldn't have to deal with your shit!"

"I don't want to argue with you, Zoe," Dracula said with a frown. "I invited you over and cooked you dinner in the hopes we could discuss this like adults." He fell silent for a moment seeming to consider something. "Come with me."

"Why?" She snapped, her arms folding over her chest. "Do you plan to hold me captive until you can claim my children?"

"Can I show you something without you immediately jumping down my back?" He asked coolly, rising up from his chair. "I want to show you something."

Part of her wondered if she could reach the front door fast enough to get out without him catching her. Knowing that wasn't a possibility, she ceded and reluctantly followed the vampire. When they stopped in front of a room, Dracula flipped a switch and a beam of light lit up the interior.

Zoe gawked in astonishment at what she saw. The walls were painted an off-white, decorated by framed pictures of shades of green and gray abstract shapes. There was a french dresser sandwiched between two changing tables and the highlight of it all, two beautifully crafted cribs. A nursery. The bastard had installed a nursery!

"You…" She swallowed hard, hands balling into fists. "You did this?"

"Well, it's not finished yet." Dracula explained as he stepped inside. "But it is a step in the right direction, don't you think?"

Not one thing. She hadn't gotten a single thing for the twins. She sure as hell wasn't anywhere close to being able to create a nursery. Where would she even put the damn thing?! And now here he was, goddamn parent of the year with a room already ready for two kids she didn't even want him to have access too. Whether it was from the stress of it all. The hormones. The emotions. Zoe began to ball. Really, truly sob like she never had before. Oh Christ she was going to be a terrible mother.

"Zoe?" Dracula asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look like I'm okay?!" She hissed through streaming tears. "Do you have any idea what I'm dealing with right now?! With what I'm going through?! You built a bloody nursery! What are you trying to prove?!" Zoe held up a hand before he could answer. "You're a complete and utter prick! And an asshole! And I hate you!" How unpleasant she both sounded and surely looked right now. "And I...I…"

A pair of arms wrapped around her and through bleary eyes she met Dracula's gaze. For whatever reason she didn't fight it, leaning into his chest as she cried and cried. She'd regret this later. Agatha would be sure to make a scene when she returned home. But for now she gave into her emotions and the vampire's hug. Until that moment, she hadn't really realized how badly she needed one. Even if it did come from him. It would bite her in the ass later, but for now she closed her eyes. It wasn't too terribly bad after all. Was it?

#Dracula #Dracula 2020 #Dragatha #Agatha Van Helsing #Dracula x Agatha #Gemini

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These yogis hang out in cadaver labs

New Post has been published on https://nexcraft.co/these-yogis-hang-out-in-cadaver-labs/

These yogis hang out in cadaver labs

Beverly Boyer knows bodies—the registered massage therapist soothes living muscles every day. But when Boyer describes the first time she peered inside a corpse, her voice lowers as if she’s recalling the start of a great romance. “Everything clicked,” she says. “Everything I had learned through my education—the anatomy, the physiology—I could see it right there.”

It’s a Tuesday night in February, and Boyer, standing in the basement of a funeral parlor, is doing her best to share her macabre love interest with others. In 2014, she founded what’s now called the Colorado Learning Center of Human Anatomy, which rents space in a Longmont mortuary, to give other flesh professionals—massage therapists, yoga teachers, acupuncturists, and energy workers, among others—access to deceased and donated bodies. Each week, dozens of Boyer’s students gather here to manipulate the soft tissue of cadavers, hoping to gain anatomical insight to apply to their own day jobs.

Hers is one of a handful of cadaver schools for the nonmedical crowd that has risen up in the past several years. They promise unconventional students a sort of anatomical enlightenment, focusing on the body’s fascial layers, muscular origins, insertion points, nervous systems, and biomechanical functions (and dysfunctions).

As a local lover of science, yoga, and all things strange, I’ve long wondered what these idiosyncratic dissection enthusiasts get out of their evenings with the deceased.

Tonight, I’m watching Boyer run a class for about a dozen yoga instructors. But she is not the teacher. That title belongs to Vesalius—the dead man whose foot the students are now passing around. Just prior to this, the students had nervously chattered while donning paper gowns, rubber gloves, and masks sometimes daubed in eucalyptus oil to staunch the stench of formaldehyde. But with Vesalius’ sole laid bare—whitish-yellow, oddly plush, threaded through with fibrous muscle and tendon—they fall silent.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” asks Boyer. She encourages them to feel the heft of their teacher’s heel in their hands.

As the foot makes its rounds, Boyer removes a towel covering the torso. She lifts layers of muscle and bone from his skinless, dissected midsection. “It looks like turkey,” says one of the students. Someone giggles, then stops abruptly.

Boyer is rooting around for Vesalius’ erector spinae—a muscle group that spans the length of the vertebral column. In yin yoga, the specialty of today’s group of students, one might access it with a long child’s pose, a forward bend that relaxes both the muscle and the fascia that covers it. The theory is that this release activates the parasympathetic nervous system, calming the body’s fight-or-flight impulse and unraveling physical stress.

As Boyer dips her hand into Vesalius’ hollowed-out torso, one student bounces from foot to foot; another’s eyes shine with what look like tears.

Dana Balafas, a bespectacled woman with Instagram-worthy bangs, stands away from the rest of class. As Boyer describes the erector spinae’s role in helping the body fold forward, Balafas suddenly drops her head down to her legs. Boyer pauses to ask if she’s feeling well.

“Yeah,” says Balafas, snapping back upright. She’s just trying to make sense of her own erector spinae.

Not long ago, few who weren’t doctors, coroners, or med students had a chance to handle a dissected cadaver. And as late as the 19th century, the corporeal cleavage that gave medical professionals their best pre-MRI glimpse into bodies came from plundered graves or the victims of public executions. Curious vivisectors broke all kinds of laws and social taboos to practice their craft.

“Even doctors and staff at medical schools were involved in grave robbing,” says Raphael Hulkower, an endocrinologist who penned a research article on the history of dissection. The means may have been unsavory, he says, but grave robbing supported students’ desperate need to understand the workings of the biological machines they sought to repair. Even in our age of digital medicine and computer simulations, academics still believe that cadavers are the best way for students to study anatomy. It’s little wonder that yogis, driven as much by a desire to respect the body as to see its inner workings, have gotten into the act. And Colorado—with two other facilities within a 100-mile radius of here regularly offering similar courses to Boyer’s—turns out to be a unique haven for those looking to get out of corpse pose and into some actual corpses.

Boyer beat them all by a couple of decades. In 1995, two years into her career as a massage therapist, she persuaded a professor at Ohio State University to give her a tour of the cadaver lab. It would take a while, but she finally got into the business for herself. Nearly 400 students came through her doors in 2016, and more than 700 in 2017.

Among those who donate their remains to the stretch-and-release sciences: lawyers, construction workers, nurses, and teachers, most of them from the community and some of whom were yoga practitioners themselves. While still alive, donors can help decide which classes they will teach in the academic afterlife. They can also choose how much Boyer reveals to students about their lives and professions, information that can assist in the teaching.

Tonight’s teacher arrived at the center with only two identifiers (88, colon cancer). Boyer has named him Vesalius for a 16th-century Flemish physician known as the founder of modern human anatomy. To encourage her students to connect to Vesalius, she shares the backstory she has given him based on his distinct physiology; she calls him her “rancher” because his right supraspinatus muscle—part of the rotator cuff—carries tension lines that suggest repeated overhead use, lasso-style. And because his knees show hardly any signs of arthritis (very odd for a man his age), Boyer proposes that maybe he spent more time on a horse than his feet.

“He had really nice knees,” she says.

Though devoted to my own yoga practice, I’m wary of the exaggerated claims and pseudoscience often associated with the discipline. It might offer stress relief, help with pain management, and make people more flexible, but at its core, yoga is spiritual—and more often than not, spirit and science seem to diverge. So my ears perk up when Boyer veers off the hard-science stuff and pronounces the word “chakra,” the wheel-like energy centers that Eastern religions associate with one’s life force.

Is she about to show us some cluster of nerves that can explain the “blockages” or “vibrations” of the third eye, or why a hip-opening yoga pose might realign out-of-whack sacral chakras and restore emotional well-being?

Not exactly. She stops short of making any scientific extrapolations, but she’s happy to connect the dots.

“Here’s where his heart chakra would have been,” she says. She gestures toward Vesalius’ thoracic cavity in a moment more of meditative reflection than instruction. “The heart takes earth and stomach and connects it to heaven.”

Vesalius’ heart may connect him to heaven, but his butt is in a plastic bin by his feet. Boyer hands the tissue to a student. “That’s the glute,” she says. “Here, pull.” The student tugs on a long, leathery piece of iliotibial (IT) band.

His butt is in a plastic bin by his feet.”

When attached to a leg, the IT band stretches from the posterior iliac crest above the gluteus maximus to the knee, helping the hip move. Tonight, Boyer uses Vesalius’ backside to demonstrate the resilience of connective tissue.

“Pull harder,” Boyer says. As the student lets it go, it settles back into place. Boyer puts the butt back in the bin.

Boyer conveys a profound respect for people who donate their organs to science. She’s already committed her mortal remains to lie on the same steel slab one day. “Please thank the teachers in your own way tonight,” she tells the students as the class breaks up.

Chattiness returns as the trainees slide out of their gowns, shoving used gloves into the trash and washing their hands. The towel-covered bodies still lie splayed on tables beside them. (A few quietly agree that Vesalius does indeed look a lot like turkey jerky.) But from now on, they concede, they’ll see dead people when they downward dog.

I gaze around at the mysterious-looking spray bottles, the moisture that drips from the cadavers and down drains in the metal tables, the quote about kindness displayed beside anatomical charts. Balafas tells me she’ll think of Vesalius’ spine whenever she’s tempted to skimp on her stretches, and as she prepares sequences for her yoga students. But having earlier handled the heart of “Miss V,” a teacher who died of brain cancer in her 80s, Balafas now has a curious request: She’d like to see inside the woman’s skull. Balafas’ mother, it turns out, died of the same. Boyer reveals an open cranium with the flick of a towel, explaining where the cancer was located and how little of the brain it compromised.

“She has a beautiful brain,” Boyer muses.

Erin Blakemore is a Boulder, Colorado–based journalist and author.

This article was originally published in the Summer 2018 Life/Death issue of Popular Science.

Written By Erin Blakemore

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