THE CEMETERY AT NIGHT

Chapter 3: The Haunting Begins

The following evening, the air in Gettysburg felt unnaturally heavy, laden with an eerie stillness that seemed to wrap around Sami like a shroud. The setting sun cast long, twisted shadows across the town, its light fading into a deep, ominous twilight. Sami and Grace had spent the day tracking down the rare herbs and artifacts described in the book. Their search had been exhausting, but the urgency of their mission lent them a relentless drive.

They had agreed to meet at Sami's modest apartment, where Grace had set up a makeshift workspace. Sami opened the door to find Grace at the kitchen table, meticulously arranging the items they had managed to gather: bundles of dried herbs, a vial of salt, and an assortment of ancient symbols. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting flickering shadows that seemed to dance around them.

"Hey, Sami," Grace greeted him, looking up from her work. "I think we have everything we need, but we should double-check the book before we start anything."

Sami nodded, his mind still reeling from the previous night's events. "I've been thinking about what happened in the crypt. The whispers... they seemed almost alive, like they were trying to tell us something."

Grace's brow furrowed in concern. "Yes, and it's unsettling that they started just after we disturbed the book. It might be connected to the ritual."

Sami sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know. It feels like the crypt is actively resisting us, as if something is trying to keep its secrets hidden."

Grace set the book down on the table, flipping through its pages. "The text mentions that spirits can become more agitated if they sense that their resting place is being intruded upon. It's possible that by attempting the ritual, we've stirred something that was better left undisturbed."

Sami's eyes darted to the window, where the darkness outside seemed to press in on him. "That would explain the whispers. But it doesn't make it any less terrifying."

Grace nodded in agreement, her face pale in the dim light. "We need to be very careful. If the ritual is to be performed correctly, it has to be done with absolute precision. Any mistake could provoke the spirits further."

As Sami prepared the ritual space, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The atmosphere in his apartment seemed to grow colder, and an uneasy chill crept along his spine. He glanced around, half-expecting to see shadows moving in the corners of his vision. Grace appeared to sense his discomfort and offered a reassuring smile.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Sami forced a smile. "Just feeling a bit on edge. Let's get this done."

They worked in silence, the ritual's preparation becoming a mechanical process as they laid out the symbols and arranged the herbs according to the book's instructions. Sami's hands shook slightly as he set the items in place, his mind drifting back to the crypt and the unsettling whispers that had filled the darkness.

As they finished setting up, Sami noticed an odd sensation—a prickling on the back of his neck, as if someone were standing just behind him. He turned quickly, but the room was empty. Grace looked up, sensing his distress.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"Yeah, just... a chill," Sami replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Let's get started."

They began the ritual, following the instructions meticulously. Sami recited the incantations while Grace sprinkled the herbs and salt according to the book's directions. The words felt foreign on his tongue, their ancient cadence echoing through the apartment. The dim light flickered as if responding to the ritual's energy, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop noticeably.