Categories > Original > Horror
Graveyard
I awoke to the soft sounds of a hooting owl that was obviously a far distance away. I saw that I was lying on a soft patch of perfectly cut grass, soaked with dew. As I sat up slowly, I felt a slight headache coming on, and I tried to remember how I had gotten into this mess in the first place, how I ended up in a clearing, miles from home at the dead of night. Flashes of people in masks, and the sounds of glass panes breaking filled my mind. I wondered if my parents had gotten out of our house. I couldn't remember what exactly happened to me, but I knew people had tried to break into our home, and when one of the masked men carried me back to a dark van, I saw bright orange flames spark up around the edge of the house. I briefly wondered if I would find dead bodies when I home, or if I got home. I tried to clear my head and I took a look at the surrounding scenery. To my left, there was a thick forest, and to my right was a destroyed barn. But the scariest thing of all was the thick, black iron gate that loomed before me. I stood up, and froze as I heard a crackling sound behind me. I turned around slowly, and came face to face with . . . a cobweb.
The gate that I now had my back to creaked open ever so slightly, and a cool rush of air hit my back. Curious, I turned to see why the air had come from nowhere. I took a couple of steps forward . . . and the gate close behind me, somehow latching shut. My heart rate grew as I banged on the gate, trying to either pull or push it open. I slowly realized there was no way out, for there were three foot high walls surrounding me. I tried to calm down, tried to take in the landscape. My curiosity had landed me in a graveyard. I noticed that there was thick fog surrounding me. The cracked, gray headstones were barely visible at this time of night, and they were completely shrouded by the fog. I took a few steps closer to examine a stone that was close to me. Although you could barely see, I was able to read it clearly.
Andrea Wayland
1918 - 1938
As my eyes sped across the writing, something that I hadn’t felt in a long time came over me. Fear. I don’t know why I was scared. It wasn’t the name, no. Perhaps it was the date of death. 1918 to 1938? The girl had been twenty when she had died. I vaguely wondered if she had been murdered, but I quickly pushed the thought out of my head. I didn’t need to be anymore scared than I already was.
Maybe it was the smell of rotting flesh that the graveyard gave off, maybe it was my imagination, but at that moment, a blood-curdling scream rang out around the place. A girl’s scream. That’s when I lost it. I ran in the opposite direction the scream, hoping to find the fence wide open so I could get out. No such luck. Even if the gate was open, I wouldn’t have been able to see it. The fog was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Frantically, I began searching, holding out my hands so I could feel the cold of the iron bars. Nothing. More screams pierced the cold October air. Behind me there was a horrid cracking noise, as though the ground were splitting. I flung myself around and saw something. I had no idea what it was, but I ran in the opposite direction.
Ahead of me, I saw a metal bar, lying on the ground. Maybe this was what brought my hope back, maybe it was something else, but I grabbed the bar as quick as I could, and vaulted my self over the cement wall. I landed hard on my foot, and I think I might have twisted something, but it didn’t matter. I was back in the clearing. The fog seemed to have lightened now that I was back, but that didn’t stop me from running. Again, more screams pelted the air, perhaps following me. I ran as fast as I could, and I soon ended up in the forest. Tree limbs and leaves scratched my arms, legs and face, but I kept running. I heard footsteps behind me, they were running feet, you could tell. I ran faster, hoping I would lose whatever was after me, but it kept coming.
The moonlight was beginning to shine clearer through the trees, and I could tell the forest was going to end soon. Still, the steps kept coming, and fear flooded my heart once more. I was beginning to lose speed. My legs hurt too much to carry on. The foot’s were getting closer that was for sure. Gradually, my feet slowed to a stop, but I was still begging them to move. From behind, I was tackled, and I tumbled to the ground. My attacker had hit me hard, and we were pushed down a sloping hill. As we rolled faster and faster, I screamed more and more, until my head hit a tree trunk at the bottom of the hill. Even though I was in a horrible situation, even though I knew what came next, I felt myself slip into a peaceful state of unconsciousness. Whatever had come for me, had got what they, or it wanted . . .
The End
I awoke to the soft sounds of a hooting owl that was obviously a far distance away. I saw that I was lying on a soft patch of perfectly cut grass, soaked with dew. As I sat up slowly, I felt a slight headache coming on, and I tried to remember how I had gotten into this mess in the first place, how I ended up in a clearing, miles from home at the dead of night. Flashes of people in masks, and the sounds of glass panes breaking filled my mind. I wondered if my parents had gotten out of our house. I couldn't remember what exactly happened to me, but I knew people had tried to break into our home, and when one of the masked men carried me back to a dark van, I saw bright orange flames spark up around the edge of the house. I briefly wondered if I would find dead bodies when I home, or if I got home. I tried to clear my head and I took a look at the surrounding scenery. To my left, there was a thick forest, and to my right was a destroyed barn. But the scariest thing of all was the thick, black iron gate that loomed before me. I stood up, and froze as I heard a crackling sound behind me. I turned around slowly, and came face to face with . . . a cobweb.
The gate that I now had my back to creaked open ever so slightly, and a cool rush of air hit my back. Curious, I turned to see why the air had come from nowhere. I took a couple of steps forward . . . and the gate close behind me, somehow latching shut. My heart rate grew as I banged on the gate, trying to either pull or push it open. I slowly realized there was no way out, for there were three foot high walls surrounding me. I tried to calm down, tried to take in the landscape. My curiosity had landed me in a graveyard. I noticed that there was thick fog surrounding me. The cracked, gray headstones were barely visible at this time of night, and they were completely shrouded by the fog. I took a few steps closer to examine a stone that was close to me. Although you could barely see, I was able to read it clearly.
Andrea Wayland
1918 - 1938
As my eyes sped across the writing, something that I hadn’t felt in a long time came over me. Fear. I don’t know why I was scared. It wasn’t the name, no. Perhaps it was the date of death. 1918 to 1938? The girl had been twenty when she had died. I vaguely wondered if she had been murdered, but I quickly pushed the thought out of my head. I didn’t need to be anymore scared than I already was.
Maybe it was the smell of rotting flesh that the graveyard gave off, maybe it was my imagination, but at that moment, a blood-curdling scream rang out around the place. A girl’s scream. That’s when I lost it. I ran in the opposite direction the scream, hoping to find the fence wide open so I could get out. No such luck. Even if the gate was open, I wouldn’t have been able to see it. The fog was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Frantically, I began searching, holding out my hands so I could feel the cold of the iron bars. Nothing. More screams pierced the cold October air. Behind me there was a horrid cracking noise, as though the ground were splitting. I flung myself around and saw something. I had no idea what it was, but I ran in the opposite direction.
Ahead of me, I saw a metal bar, lying on the ground. Maybe this was what brought my hope back, maybe it was something else, but I grabbed the bar as quick as I could, and vaulted my self over the cement wall. I landed hard on my foot, and I think I might have twisted something, but it didn’t matter. I was back in the clearing. The fog seemed to have lightened now that I was back, but that didn’t stop me from running. Again, more screams pelted the air, perhaps following me. I ran as fast as I could, and I soon ended up in the forest. Tree limbs and leaves scratched my arms, legs and face, but I kept running. I heard footsteps behind me, they were running feet, you could tell. I ran faster, hoping I would lose whatever was after me, but it kept coming.
The moonlight was beginning to shine clearer through the trees, and I could tell the forest was going to end soon. Still, the steps kept coming, and fear flooded my heart once more. I was beginning to lose speed. My legs hurt too much to carry on. The foot’s were getting closer that was for sure. Gradually, my feet slowed to a stop, but I was still begging them to move. From behind, I was tackled, and I tumbled to the ground. My attacker had hit me hard, and we were pushed down a sloping hill. As we rolled faster and faster, I screamed more and more, until my head hit a tree trunk at the bottom of the hill. Even though I was in a horrible situation, even though I knew what came next, I felt myself slip into a peaceful state of unconsciousness. Whatever had come for me, had got what they, or it wanted . . .
The End
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