So Long, Not Goodnight

Chapter One

A slow and steady fog begins to rise on the Monroeville skyline making all the dead lawns of suburbia seem like grave plots in an abandoned cemetery. The shadow of the moon creeps through the bleak foliage outside Saint Mary of the Suffering spire on Exeter Street in a seedy backlot of Belleview. There's the sound of sneakers pounding the cracked pavement of the sidewalk as Gerard briefly looks over his shoulder to see a cloaked figure chasing him through the dark, frosted back alley. His breath is escaping his lips in clouds much like when he's chainsmoking only his lungs don't feel like they are burning; they are completely aflame.There's a rusty moan as he notices the cemetery gate yawning wide, it's lock and chain dangling from the rusty latch hanging by a single link. Without much thought, Gerard sneaks through the archway, the slaps of his soles now silenced by the moors of mud and moss on the overgrown lawn amid lopsided stones. He pauses and rests his palms on his knees before noticing a dark shadow paused outside the iron gate. Looking around the lot desperately, he notices a cracked tomb a few paces away. He ducks a little lower and flees to it's slate steps.

Keeping his eyes focused on the figure, he feels the first step arise from the mucky ground and steps onto the second. The tread of his high tops almost skids off completely as a thick layer of ice hides on the stone surface. The shins of his jeans, already torn and frayed, catch against a crack in the rock and pull the hole wider on his left leg. "SHIT," he almost shrieks but then remembers that he's being followed. His right hand cups his mouth and his eyes dart back to the iron fence. The figure has disappeared and is replaced by a dark mist. A panic almost crushes Gerard's heart as he frantically looks around the yard. It couldn't have gone far. He only looked away for a second. Suddenly, a high pitched screech pierces the silent air as the old gate is torn away from it's hinges. There still isn't any figure in sight. A ghostly footprint slowly stamps into the muddy puddle at the entrance of the graveyard, right where the metal remains of the gate lay. Gerard tears his leg away from the sharp fingers pulling at his jeans and reaches for the intricately engraved stone handle of the mausoleum door. The lock caught as he willed with all his strength and he noticed another footprint forming in the snow remnants a few feet away from the site in which he stood. He pulled and pulled at the heavy door and kept trying to pry the stuck catch loose, but the door just wouldn't budge. "Fuck!" Almost to the point of giving up, Gerard pounded the gravelly surface with a closed fist one, twice, three times, and began to fall to his knees and give himself up to whatever entity was after him. A squelching sound broke from right behind him as a pair of prints developed in the slush beneath the first step of the gravesite he sat amongst. Another sound broke amidst the eerie silence; a stony groan followed by a thud as the mausoleum door hit against the left side pillar embossed in moss and ivy. "What the actual fuck?" Gerard felt himself lift from the cold rock.

The phantom behind him seemed like a complete mirage as opposed to the ghoul who was welcoming him to their grave. Gerard cocked his head to the side as he peered into the darkness of the winding stairs leading down into the family grave site. His tongue pushed against his inner cheek as he contemplated that this might be an illusion as a pale hand darted out of the darkness and gripped the stone siding. Gerard jolted back and slipped down onto the second step. His feet slipped again on the sheen of ice and his head cracked against the first step. Before his sight faded, he felt a cold grip grasp at his right shoulder and then a firm grip pulled at his left ankle. Before he could fathom what was happening, he found his body being dragged up the steps and into the mouth of the cavernous archway of the mausoleum. As his dizzying vision faded, he would make out the scripted Latin carving atop the archway carved in stony renaissance letters: Vitam Moretem.