The silence is deafening.
Almost unbearable. How could the dead stand it?
He didn't know. But he has a job to do. He looks out across the land.
Ominous dark statues stood against the rising moon. Angels by day, demons by night. The tombstones dotted the land as far as he could see. And then, in the far distance, when it seemed the land could not stretch any longer, a single sickly yellow glow could be seen.
He breathes in deeply, tendrils of the night fog sucked into his lungs.
Chilling
He takes a step forward, past the black iron gates wrought in times long forgotten. The fence on the side of the fence stretches away into the night. The path in front of him glows eerily in the moonlight.
Odd
He calms himself, then strides forward, pulling his cloak about him. His heavy footsteps echo amongst the tombstones, like a march of a skeletal army that could not be seen.
I am not welcome here
He walks faster. The light in the distance grows brighter. Yet he cannot see it's source. The sudden hoot of an owl in a nearby tree startles him. He turns around, arms outstretched in front of him.
Nothing...Just a night bird.
He turns around slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. He looks at the distant light. He starts to walk again. The leaves rustle on the ground as the wind picks up slightly.
He walks faster. The wind blows harder now, against him. Dead leaves slam into him and bounce away in a futile effort to drive him away from whatever secrets the dead protected. He starts to jog, the beginnings of fear taking hold of his heart. The wind blows harder now, carrying with it the sounds of the dead.
Moaning, screaming voices replace the wind. He runs now, fear pumping his legs. The screams grow louder, centuries of hatred let loose upon him. Tears form as the icy wind blasts into his unblinking eyes. But he would not blink.
RUN! RUN! THEY COME FOR YOU!
Suddenly, a single leaf comes flying out of nowhere into his face. For a split second, time freezes. He stares at the leaf. The terror that grips him transforms the soft edge of the leaf into the blades of a sword. He stares for a second at it, then time unfreezes and he ducks his head. The leaf barely misses him, but he loses sight of the path for a second. A deadly second.
His feet slips on something, and he feels himself fly forward. Weightless.
NO!
Once again, just for a second, time freezes. All he sees is the night sky with the light purple clouds, then a tombstone with the wings of an angel, and then a face of a demonic woman. He stares into her eyes. The ground.
It rushes up to meet him and-
He opens his eyes. A sudden jolt of pain streams up his neck and he bites his tongue, controlling the scream fighting to burst out of his mouth. He screws his eyes shut. He takes a deep breath, before opening his eyes again. The cold soft soil is pressed up against his face. His vision is blurred. He blinks. His vision starts to clear. Trees start to come into focus, their dark ominous branches resemble claws that stretch out to get him. Beneath their canopy, darkness swims around their trunks, unable to venture into the sunlight.
Are my eyes playing tricks on me?
He sees dark shapes moving in the darkness.
Human shapes.
Faces now. Dark, shadowed. But there. Yes. Definitely faces. Onyx black holes take the place of their once living eyes. Darker than the darkness.
The terror grips him once again. He tries to move, but the pain shoots up his spine again.
Paralyzed! NO!
He tries to move again, ignoring the pain. But to no avail.
Suddenly, he feels the moonlight on his face starting to fade. The light that shone on the trees starts to retreat backward, towards him. The shapes move forward, eager to reach him.
Touch him.
GOD! NO! PLEASE!
No one hears him. He is all alone. The moonlight retreats back to within an inch of his face. He stares, unable to scream.
A shadowy face stops outside the moonlight, an inch from his face. He looks into its soulless eyes, unable to turn away, not wanting to close his eyes. The moonlight now rests on the tip of his nose. The shadow reaches out a shapeless claw to touch his nose.
Icy cold hopelessness crawls up from the tip of his nose.
Help me...Please...Anyone...
Then, the light disappears.
No hears him scream.
In the far off distance, the old man opens the door. Sickly yellow candlelight spills onto his porch. He thought he heard something. He stares out across the land, across the graveyard.
A scream...I heard it
He stares out for a second, then shrugs it off before going back into the shack. He closes the door and the light on the porch disappears. Darkness flows back onto the wooden planks immediately.
A dark shadow seeps from the darkness, flowing across the boards like oil. It stops and stares at the door, longing for the warmth and light. It's just soulful eyes now gone, replaced for eternity by endless emptiness.
It stares for a second longer, then moves away to join the darkness.
The silence is deafening.
Almost unbearable. But the dead can stand it.
