Macabre

Resurrection

It was a beautiful night. The air crisp and warm, the sky overcast but not too threatening. Every now and then the moon would creep its way between the smears of clouds, illuminating the earth in a yellow glow. There was a light breeze about, the kind that lifted your hair ever so slightly from your shoulders.
I marched forward through the night. My sneakers treading the fresh cut grass beneath their soles, lifting now and then to avoid a fallen twig or a stray flower. I’ve always admired flowers, so pretty even after their stems had been cut, their deaths clearly sentenced. My eyes were focused straight ahead, following the beam of my flashlight as it bounced along the headstones, every so often stopping on a piece of granite or cement, checking the dates that were etched into the surface. I prefered the older ones, at least a century or two. They were always more interesting to talk with.
This part of the cemetery was a little too new. I’d found that out last time. There was an older portion, just past the treeline straight ahead. That was where I was headed. Surrounded by a wrought iron fence, encased in decaying vines and foliage, was a grouping of graves. Perhaps a dozen broken markers, dating as far back as 1828. They were an excellent find on my part and I have to say I’m very excited about them. These were not regular coffins below my feet, they were safety coffins. I could tell because of the metal poles that were stuck next to each one.
Back in the 19th century, a cholera epidemic swept through a nearby village. The villagers buried the bodies quickly to prevent the spread of disease. This worked fine until a few people were found to have been buried alive. Folks don’t take kindly to that idea, so they got creative. Metal tubes were installed in the victims coffins, the idea being that the recently deceased could call for help if they woke up six feet under. All sarcasm aside, it was a pretty neat idea.
I stopped at the grave furthest from the fence, it was more secluded, less chance of being heard that way. A good chunk of the headstone was missing, its right side crumbling away into the dirt. There were weeds popping up around the base, little blue flowers smiling brightly in the night. I stared at the tiny buds, a small grin finding its way across my lips. This one will do for tonight. I brought my light up to the concrete and leaned close trying to make out what was left of the lettering. The markings were faded and the surname was broken off. My fingers traced what remained, I could barely make out her first name.
“Well Mary,” I said aloud. “let’s talk for a bit.”
Setting my flashlight on the ground I crouched down toward the dirt at my feet. With my palms pressed firmly against the soil I closed my eyes and began. There was a faint humming in my bones, the crackles of electricity that came from somewhere within. The sparks ran through my arms to the tips of my fingers before finding their way into the ground. I stood and stared for a moment, it usually takes a minute or two
I looked up at the sky for a second, the clouds had gotten heavier, going from grey to black. Lightning flashed in the distance, a thin bolt racing through the ebony sky. Looks like tonight will have to be a fast one.
The sound of shuffling caught my attention. It was faint, just a fraction of noise coming from the pipe in front of me. I stepped towards it, tapping it with my foot. A bit of rust crumbled down the side, trickling into the darkness below. There was a ringing that followed the action, then the sound of breathing. Poor thing must be terrified, I shouldn’t be able to hear her breathing out here. Then the screaming started. Why do they always have to scream?
I sat next to the metal, peering into the darkness below.
“Mary?” I spoke into the tube, trying to sound as gentle as possible. She better calm down. There’s only so much air down there, and I didn’t have all night.
The screams stopped at the sound of my voice, but I didn’t get an answer. The distant rumble of thunder caused me to look up, I really should have checked the weather.
“Mary?” I tried again.
There was a moment of silence from the both of us. I listened closely, knowing it would be hard to hear her down there. There was a single cricket chirping in the brush to my left, it was getting on my nerves quickly.
“Hello?” The voice was faint, muffled by its iron casing, yet you could practically taste the fear that was held within it.
I put my lips closer to the opening. “Hello.”
There was a gasp followed by a cough. I imagine it’s pretty dusty down there.
“What is happening?” Her voice had evened out quite a bit.
I thought for a moment, “Well Mary, you’ve been given a second chance at life.”
A large drop of rain hit my head. I looked around as more began to fall, it was only a light drizzle, I had a few more minutes.
“A second chance?” She was confused, naturally. “I don’t understand.”
They were always so confused, it made the whole thing much more amusing.
“You died too soon, so you’ve been given another opportunity.” I smiled into the pipe.
There was another bout of silence, filled with that damn cricket. I figure she was trying to make sense of the whole situation. It certainly was a lot to process, especially for someone who has been dead for a couple hundred years.
“Are you an angel?” It sounded like she was crying.
I cocked my head to the side. “Not exactly.”
The rain was getting heavier, I knew it was time to get going.
“Well if you are not an angel, then what are you?” She asked, her tone unsure.
“You know,” I said after a moment of thought. “you should really stop worrying about me and start thinking about how you’re going to get out of there.”
“Aren’t you going to help me?” There was panic settling in her voice.
I began to stand up, my pants now covered in mud. “I said you were given a second chance at life Mary, I never mentioned how long it was going to be.”
I brushed my legs off the best I could and picked up my flashlight. She said something else but I was too far away now to hear it. I could, however, hear her screams for a few seconds before the rain washed them out.
A wide grin was stretched across my face as I walked out towards the newer graves. Who would have thought being able to bring the dead back would be so much fun?