A Stormy Night: Stories to Read by Candlelight

Bell Ringer

On a dark, foggy, moonlit night, Darnell crept about the tombs. The pale light cast itself in a wide blanket, and threw shadows onto the dew moistened ground. The deep gray clouds moved casually in front of the moon, and the shadows moved as the wind blew, making odd sounds throughout the graveyard. But Darnell was not afraid. As the leaves rattled, he moved swiftly about the headstones, looking for recent burial plots. In the distance, he could see the glint of brass, and the shadow of a small wound piece of twine. Darnell grinned wide, and snuck closer to the grave. The wind stopped blowing, and the moon came out more fully from the clouds, casting its glow onto the large Victorian home that lay just beyond the gates to the cemetery. All the lanterns were out, and the house sat in utter darkness, save the moonlight glow. Darnell smiled again, pleased with this, and sat atop the headstone, staring up at the house beyond the gate, as the moon hid once more.

The death had spread rather quickly across the city, and Darnell knew it. He had gawked at the idea of strings being attached to the dead, as though the dead would arise once more.

"How foolish to think such a thing," he thought aloud. Darnell was in no way happy for the spread of death, but it gave him the perfect distraction: The bells. Attached to the dead man's finger, was a string, at the other end, a large bell. It had been known to happen, the dead had come back in the morgues, and the superstitious ones demanded safety coffins, in case their loved ones came back while under the dirt. Darnell faced the east side of the house, and the front door was to his left. The family cemetery was behind him as he sat on the stone and smiled. He took a deep breath before he stepped off of the stone, leaned over the back of it, and yanked the cord that ran from the ground. He then scrambled over the fence, and leaped to the second story ledge. Then he waited. The bell swung widely on its cord, and echoed a loud, deep ring throughout the land. Suddenly, and exactly as Darnell had hoped, a light flickered on in the room to his right, and a woman shouted,

"Oh, Alfred! I just knew it, I did, I did!" She said frantically as the light faded from the room. Darnell was quick, and he silently dove into the open window, as the frantic old lady ran out of the front door, and out to the shallow grave. Darnell whipped his satchel forward, and swept his arm across the large dresser, collecting what valuables he could in a short time. The woman went on shouting and digging up the body of her dead husband, and Darnell moved now to the drawers of a large chest, searching for any and all jewelry that he could. He found nothing, and when he heard the woman stop digging, he ran out of the door and into the hall. He went down the stairs, sliding on the railing as he did, and flew down the foyer and out the front door. The moonlight as his guide, he circled the house, and ran down the path and through the forest that sat behind the home. When he came out at the other end, he faced the largest cemetery in Raven. He took rest at the top of the hill, and opened the bag on his lap, the contents gleaming in the moonlight. He examined each piece carefully; an amethyst broach, a diamond ring, a genuine pearl necklace, and silver earrings.

"Well if I haven't lived, I'll be living for a good while on the lot I'll get from this!" Darnell said aloud, before piling everything back into the bag and starting down the hill. The graveyard was his home, for he had not one to return to after a nights pillage. As he walked among the rows, the wind started up, and he heard a faint ring behind him. He snapped back, and he saw the glint of a small brass bell, waving in the wind. He sighed, then chuckled at his fearfulness. Walking over to the grave, he laughed aloud again, and swung a hand at the bell, causing it to ring louder.

The wind died down, and the moon was now concealed behind the protection of a cloud, causing the cemetery to become gloomier than before. Suddenly, there was another faint ring. He stood in place, and the land fell silent. He sighed, but then a louder ring started, several bells at once. Like an out of tune chorus they chimed, and when he looked down, the ground at his feet began to move. He lost his balance and fell back, just as a pair of gruesome hands shot up from under the earth. He scrambled back, but another pair of arms came out and grasped him by the shoulders. He kicked and screamed frantically, but the grip was too tight to break free. He looked up, and before him was a woman. Though, she was a woman no longer. Her flesh was blistered and boiled, and her hair was a slimy mess of dirt and decay. Her body crackled and squished, and her neck rolled down to face Darnell. The land continued to move around him, and before he knew it, he was surrounded by corpses.

"Who are you?! What do you want?!" Darnell shouted.

"We," the woman replied, "are the Dead."

"And we what we want, you should clearly know!" Said another corpse.

"You are The Bell Ringer, the one who awakens the Dead."

"I'm sorry, I won't do-"

"We are tired of being awoken," the woman said, "and we know you won't do it again." With this, the woman grinned a half fleshy smile, and nodded to the other bodies, before returning to her grave.

"Wait! What're you-" Darnell was cut short as the Dead threw him into a deep hole, "Wait! I said I wouldn't-" He was silenced again by a mouthful of dirt, another to the eyes, before finally, he stopped struggling.

"We may sleep now sisters and brothers," said a corpse, "we can finally sleep."