Cemetery

*Happy Halloween everyone!*
*Wordcount: 1068 words.

A bloated moon hung in a clear sky speckled with pricks of starlight, largely overshadowed by our aforementioned satellite. The cemetery below was quiet, and the caretaker asleep (he wasn’t very well-paid). A low, stereotypical fog crept between the gravestones, and the entire place looked like a movie set for another uninspired zombie movie.
Movement rustled near the dreary fence as figures clambered their way over, clearly oblivious to the stupidity of creeping around on such a well-lit night.

The wind had started to pick up, and fat and skinny trees alike waved their branches like they just didn’t care (a likely point of view, considering the life of trees is quite dull).
The teenagers that just snuck in giggled and hushed each other, excited and anxious. There were five altogether, and the group struggled to keep quiet as they moved along.
Regardless, the caretaker dozed in his hut-shack (he had had a long day) and the graves were dead quiet.

The group of teenagers stuck together for a while as they wound between the graves, making jokes and examining tombstones. Eventually they split up, after one of them pulled some cheap beer out of his backpack and handed them out, that is.
Splitting into smaller groups and well-equipped (with booze), they set out for grave adventures (HA).

The wind had grown consistent, and, if any of the teenagers had bothered to pay attention, they would have seen dark clouds begin to move in from the distance.

They had split into two groups, a couple going off on their own and the remaining three of them sticking together out of unmentioned fear.
The couple had found a fortunate bench a little distance from the graves, and were flirting up a storm. Even in creepy cemeteries at night, love finds a way.
The three that stuck together had the beer-giver and the torches on their phones, and were more interested in reading the gravestones and making (rather disrespectful) comments.

The wind was stronger, and the clouds started obscuring the moon.
Just as the weather was turning, so to were the moods of the teenagers. The couple had resorted to walking in sullen silence, fiercely sulking at each other (after a few offers were refused and a few choice words exchanged).
The other three were unhappy with the changing weather, and the shadows cast by the ominous clouds had simultaneously cast doubts in their minds. The darker it was, the more their torchlight stood out, and one of them had pointed out the dozing caretaker through his window.
They all wanted to leave, but first they needed to gather up.

The three had tried texting their couple friends, to no avail. They made sure to put their phones on vibrate before coming in, but maybe those idiots put their phones on silent instead.
The whole cemetery was cast in darkness, and the sky was inky black. Tensions were rising, to say the least, and they all found themselves jumpy.

Crunch.

After a while of walking the way they last saw their couple friends heading, they were still coming up empty. And, being a few beers in each, the task was even more difficult.
They even tried phoning, an obviously outdated medium for talking, and were greeted by perpetual ringing and little else.

Crunch.

They all jumped at the noise, and quickly stepped back. Upon inspecting the ground, they found a phone, now cracked by their brisk walking pace and boots (well-known graveyard creeping gear).
It was their friend’s, and she was going to be pissed.

Crunch.

Not far from where they found the phone, they found the other one. This time, without breaking it. They flicked through it and noted that the flood of texts they sent had gone unread.
Now they were a little unnerved, although they still browsed through the pictures on the phone and gained some really great mocking material.

Crack.

They walked all the way to the end of the cemetery, with no sign of their friends. A small, dense forest lay on the other side of the fence, the trees ruffling in concert with the wind.
Upon closer inspection, they found a gap in the fence. It was hidden from street-view by thick bushes and an uncomfortably close tree, but they could squeeze through it and were excited at the idea of having a reliable entrance/exit.
But they had no reason to believe their friends had gone out there, without their phones, in this darkness.
That is, until they noticed a scrap of clothing hooked on the tree by the gap in the fence.
A scrap they recognised.

Snap.

They heard the noises once they had started making their way through the thick tree cover, and at this point were all quite frightened. The noises in question were a variety of loud cracking and crunching sounds, which (knowing little about nature) they attributed to animals moving around or cracking branches.
Spurned forward by their loyalty to their friends, they pushed onwards.

Every now and then they stumbled on another scrap of clothing (which was clearly indicative of the quality of today’s clothing), and, to their growing terror, blood. Some of the scraps had blood on them, and they would have noticed more blood if they had inspected the ground more thoroughly.
Scared, and considering phoning the police, they decided to double back.
They noticed, all at once, that the noises they had been hearing since they entered the small forest had stopped.

The wind howled and whistled through the trees, and the teenagers were running. Only two of them now, their third friend…
They didn’t think about it, they just ran.

A guttural cry and fiercely swinging claws engulfed the second teenager, leaving only one left standing. Well, running. As fast as he could; sobered by adrenaline, he saw the end of the forest and the fence of the cemetery.
Before he even realised it, he was stumbling through.

He looked back long enough to see the ghoul leap at him, eager fangs and flying spittle.

 

The caretaker woke with a jump, and looked outside. Looked like there had been some heavy cloud cover, a possible storm, but he saw only the tail-end of it as the wind blew it past overhead.
Phew, he’d dodged that bullet.
He grabbed his torch, zipped up his jacket, and reluctantly went to do at least some work tonight.

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