Dimly illuminated by patches of moonlight, the cemetery felt almost alive as he hesitantly snuck through. He knew he shouldn't, that he'd probably be arrested for trespassing or something, but he had to know. He had to know who or what was calling him here.
The gentle wind picked up and made the leaves in the trees around the graveyard rustle loudly, making him spin around in fright. Was he being followed?
Nothing, just the wind. He sighed in relief, pulling his coat tighter around him, this whole thing was just chilling, it felt so wrong. Not just morally, but spiritually. There was something in the depths of his soul that was screaming at him to run, to leave until sunrise, but another force drew him in. Drew him closer and closer to an ancient mausoleum at the graveyard's centre.
Closer
Closer
Closer
He put out a hand to the weathered stone, his fingers picking out worn carvings; runes of sorts, and reliefs of what felt like vines, animals, skulls. A shaft of moonlight shone down on him and he returned to the runes, he couldn't recognise them, didn't know what language they were, but they spoke to him.
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As he studied them, his callused hands traced the lines again, the weathered stone slipping past. A tightening sensation began in his chest, like a fist around his heart, and with every rune traced it got worse.
But he couldn't stop.
As his fingers traced the last rune, a bolt of icy energy shot through him like an electric shock. He tried to wrench his hand away, but it was as though it were affixed to the stone. He staggered, falling against the mausoleum wall, it was a truly horrid feeling; like having pure and unbridled power coursing through him yet, at the same, time, having all his strength drained away.
A thick cloud drifted in front of the moon again, plunging the graveyard and the man into darkness.
His hand disconnected from the stonework, finally falling to the man's side. He curled up into a ball as the icy power surged through him like a venom. He shook violently, the pain was unbearable, he just wanted it to end.
A crushing coldness washed over him.
He couldn't breathe.
It was like an avalanche had buried him alive.
The man lay curled into the fetal position, shivering and gasping for air. Not even He could save the man now.
Minutes passed, minutes that felt to the poor helpless man like hours. He'd never been this cold, this afraid. The otherworldly frigidity that racked his body chilled him to his very soul. As his shivering grew more severe, his eyelids began to feel heavy...
He was so tired...
Surely a little nap wouldn't hurt...
He couldn't wait to tell his friends about this, especially that one nerd...
