A thin, wispy tendril of fog tickled the ancient dirt with frigid, sinister fingers. Small, crooked headstones crudely littered the acres of skeletons hurriedly nestled underneath the century old battlefield. Screams, cries, and agonized wails that only I could hear echoed in the stale air. A lone raven cawed, and the squeals rose higher, speaking of lost dreams and stolen lovers; of tragic tales that ended with pain and suffering, and I fought to keep from covering my ears. As soon as I had set one muddy Chuck Taylor onto the rotting soil of the cursed boneyard, the unsettled dead struggled from their plots in a futile attempt to escape the rusted black wrought iron barricades blocking the city’s sparkling lights out of view. My heart skipped a beat. What am I doing in a cemetery of long deceased supernatural creatures that ate 4.0 GPA nerds like me for breakfast?
“Do it, Jake. Or else everyone will find out what you did.” The dark silhouette silently trailing me spoke up in a deep, gravelly voice.
“Fine.” I whispered.
My hands curled around the splintered wooden handle of the shovel.
‘Well, here goes nothing.’
