Fright Vault Vol 1

Chapter Sample- For Whom the Bell Tolls

So you've come to hear my story then? Well- won't you gather around? And please don't be shy for I can be a very generous host. But it should be warned that my story is not of ghastly tales of ghosts and ghouls. Mine is a tale of tragedy and prevalence, of a broken heart and of redemption. So if you came for one of those "horror stories" I'm afraid you're all out of luck. But you are still more than welcome to join the rest of us in our merry tune. But my goodness- what kind of a host would I be if I did not introduce myself? Please forgive my rudeness. I must have gotten carried away in my storytelling elements. Well without further delay my name is Rose. Not just any rose pray tell but I am indeed a tombstone. One that belongs to the late Edward Kellings. The one who once lived a few miles away from where he rests, in that old retirement home. Oh what was the name of it? Whatever the name was Mr. Kellings soon found his new home in my fertilized dirt. Finely aged and cared for by the finest groundskeepers that I have ever been acquainted with. Yet I cannot help but feel unfortunate for the poor Edward and his ultimate demise.
A story all too common among the living and the deceased... Edward Kellings was born into a wealthy family. In turn he inherited the vast amount of riches from his heirs. All after attending the most admirable schools and universities money could buy. He graduated with the highest of honors. Soon he took over the family company that led the industrial march of wealth and power. That wealth as one would presume would lead to a life of self-happiness, luxury, lust and betrayal. He lost all his shares after his fifth wife divorced him. Three times was not a charm for the poor man and his quench for true love. And he never suspected his  grandchildren would lock him away. Especially in the confined prisons of retirement. Unknowing they were too busy investing his hard earned fortune and business. These circumstances led him to the shackles. The unfortunate circumstances of such a tragic demise. But fortunatly for Mr. Kellings his torture was shortly lived. He died of heart failure one cold night in September. I could remember it like it was yesterday. His extravagant coffin laid to rest in my burial site. I could feel the anticipation of being host to one of the wealthiest men in the graveyard. And such a handsome man at that, even at the final age of 78. Yes one hostess could never be as fortunate or lucky as I. I was host to the bell of the ball- the duke of the land.
How lucky could one say? To start the funeral was extravagant. Hundreds flocked from thousands of miles to see Mr. Kellings be laid to rest. Such an amount I would dare say that I blushed by the number that I saw on that beautiful autumn day. The leaves danced its harmonic rhythm for all to see. It gave wake to the magnificence of nature. All before the piercing darkness of winter's chill. The preacher gave his testimony and the people shuddered over their loss. And I felt the warm comfort of the glorious sun bask upon my crafted stone, polished the morning before. The chiseling of Mr. Kellings' name along with the dates and attributes came with their pains. Yet they were all worth it to be where I am at this moment. Following the ceremony is my favorite moment of this wondrous occasion. The hundreds who gathered came to my side. They bestowed the most glorious roses and penny winkles. And all to decorate my elaborate resting place. Oh it was the most wonderful day that I will always treasure for as long as I stand.
Following the funeral service I thought all would go downhill. But to my delight dozens would come by each day with more flowers to lay at my feet. My atmosphere seemed to give them a comfort knowing that the departed are now in peace for all time. It was always every once in a while that a naughty child or adult would come and steal a bouquet or two in broad daylight. For if I had the legs I would chase after them. But others would come on later days to lie more flowers where the others were absent. Others would gather to remember the other residents of the gravesite. They would always in awe at the size and magnificence of my resting place. The kind hearted Edward Kellings can rest in peace. He will be remembered and adored in my  elaborate ground. Even cars would drive by to have a look at the tombs. But Mr. Kellings always stood out above the others as I glistened in the sun light and sparkled in the rain drops. Oh life is so glorious for a gal like me. Who ever said diamonds are a girl's best friend never knew compassion or appreciation. To be host to Mr. Kellings has given me so much meaning and satisfaction in my lonely days in the graveyard.
Before I was Mr. Kellings' permanent resting place I was a lump of shagged gravel. And about to be scraped for some deserted highway, never to taken care of by human hands. A dull piece of a giant stretch into nothingness. This nightmare would have come true. That is if it weren't for the brilliant tactic of the crew members of that concrete industry. My creator decided instead to expand into creating tomb stones for those departed. Or rather the richly departed. And only the finest in quality. How fortunate for a gal with such looks as I. One of the first shipped into creation. And my expectations were far greater than expected. It was during my proud chiseling that I swore to an oath for my creator. And the one who I would care for as they leave this world. I would do anything and everything to assure the highest of quality. Not one person or thing would come in my way. I will provide the richest satisfaction in my presentation to the deceased. It was an oath I swore to after my salvation. Salvation from being more than a mere scrap of highway. And it has been since that time that I am glad to say the oath has not been broken.
Yes naughty children will come during the day and steal some of my precious bouquets. I watch in devastation but they don't always get away with it. That mischievous young boy about a week ago sought to make a get away. And with over a dozen red roses that were laid in honor of Mr. Kellings donations. Donations to find a cure for spinal damage! But he never intended that a slight thrust of the tree's root would cause him to trip on his back. It would seem cruel but I almost jeered at the irony. The lower part of his spinal cord snapped like the pedals of the bouquet. They both fell plummeting to the hard ground. The squeal of pain and the touch of agony came from both. I found myself satisfied that his harmful actions have been put to rest in the tomb a few yards away. They'll remember to heed caution on committing such a devious scheme. Next time be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.
But even a sin such as stealing flowers from a grave can look like child's play. Oh compared to the monstrosities I've encountered. It was on a cold and dark night that I found myself illuminated once more. The magnificence of the moon's reflection- and I could hear footsteps and the crackling of leaves. It was slow and uncertain at first. But the sound soon became louder as it began to approach. Step-by-step and moment-by-moment. And the closer the noise came the better I was able to see those no good hoodlums.  But much to my surprise it was Susan and Derek, the daughter and son of Edward Kellings. What on earth would they be doing here at night wearing nothing but black- unless they're intention was to... Oh dear no. Did they wish to deprive the poor old man of his last belongings? A man who has known nothing of tenderness and love. Turning his unfortunate advancements to achieve the foundation. A foundation of success through hard and endured labor. I cannot, must not let his only family of flesh and blood rob of his final resting place. I wouldn't allow such a fate, not on my soil! For it was the other night that a fellow grave robber attempted to do the same. But justice prevailed as I swept the mighty branches of the nearby oak tree into the inner skull. The rain poured from the heavens and the blood soaked. And the taste of it was sweetly accepted into the soil. The water mixed within, creating a rich concoction to help enrich the ground's structure. Funny that he came to steal from my crop. Instead helped to improve its strength. And that robber who attempted to chisel my very foundation for fast money a few days before? Instead of getting his fast money he received a fast thrust through his spine. Never expecting a chunk of rock could be harmful to his health. They all made others paid the price for their sins and I'll be damned if they don't pay for their own!
And it would appear that they came prepared for their excavation. Hard hats, flashlights, rope, backpacks and even guns. How deprive are the children of an unfortunate soul? That they would stoop so low to do away with all his earnings and achievements in life? I partly blame Mr. Kellings for not showing discipline to those miserable children. Those egotistical, self centered, heartless beasts. How dare they assume the throne of God. To make the choice of life and death for a man who gave you the gift of life itself. Such miserable cowards. Greed is all that controls their heartless souls. Well if greed is all they want then greed is all that they will ever know.
Here they come. Thinking they were ever so clever sneaking around the tombs and shadows. They would pause every now and then, cautious to not be caught The soil was trough upon and that foul stench of the spoiled fertile rose in the air as I saw them creep further. But what could I do to stop them? If I were to kill them off they would be sent to Hell not learning their lesson. Oh no I couldn't do that, not for the kind hearted Mr. Kellings and is fine resting place. I could never do such a horrible thing, and so I decided to let the dear Father do the teaching.
How surprised Susan and Derek were that night. Thrusting their shovels into the grave and found they didn't have to go very far. After all Mr. Kellings was very glad to rise up for them. His degraded corpse rose to join the world of the living once more. Granted not as handsome as he was. His skin dead pale and melting like wax heating on the candle. With eyes beginning to fall from his bare sockets. The once extravagant funeral suit collected the dust with holes and cobwebs. The children screamed from his horrifying appearance. It echoed once more as he reached out to grab their greedy little arms. And thrust them towards his resting place. Of course they screamed and they struggled. But like children they soon learned their lesson as they were forced into the ground. As I saw them lowered head deep into the graveI heard the suffocation. Their lungs could not succumb the soil that entered their horrified mouths. And I could not help but notice the irony that the rain fall brought a few moments later. The rain is always such a wonderful miracle- it brings strength to the ground and renewal to life. How rejuvenating it was to feel the sensation of the water falling on my surface. And much more satisfying. Now that I am now the proud owner and protector to the deceased Kellings family. No other tomb in the entire world could say that they give host to three people at once!
So now that you've heard my story and our joyous party do be sure to stop by and be amazed at the magnificence that waits. But beware- I am a stubborn girl but I can also be a protective one. If you do wish to harm the Kellings or myself you will have to match wits. Wits with a gal who will be more than willing to invite you to join my company. So how you wish to enjoy the view is your choice. Either way you shouldn't hesitate to observe a sight I guarantee will be an event you will never forget...