Late at night you can see him there, behind the rusty gates,
the grounds keeper of the old cemetery . An eerie presence,
like a ghost, amidst the graves in the darkened landscape.
Standing there for years, listening. Listening to the stories
of the dead. Stories of vengeance, and hate, filled with
bitterness, anger, and unrest. The ground was full of fury.
A furry only he could understand.
Everyone believed that he could hear the dead. They called
to him and he listened. They told him to kill, and he listened.
No one could believe what happened. It swept through the
town Killing everything in its path. 31 deaths in 13 days.
The body count rose, but nothing could be done. The Killings
ravaged the small town.
As he killed, he grew stronger. Fueled by the screams
of his dying victims. The bodies were mutilated, and strewn
about the Living quarters. He began to feel the rage of the
souls who had passed. But something was wrong. His conscience
began to torment him. Insanity plagued his soul. He knew it was
wrong, but the voices told him to kill, so he did. He knew that
the only way to stop the rapidly multiplying deaths,
was to bring death upon himself.
Behind the house he went. Down the steps, and into
the cellar, to the old rusty storage room. The room where he
had lived for so long. Forgotten by all. He sat in his small,
filthy bed, with his blood covered knife in hand. He quivered as
the cold steel touched his wrist. His muscles tensed, and his
body froze. He couldn’t do it. He went to the door, and locked
it from the outside, closing the door, sealing his fate.
There he sat, in the darkness. Alone.
The voices grew louder and louder. There was nothing he could do.
There he died. Alone. Slowly rotting to death, tortured
by the dead.
The killing stopped, and the quiet city went back to normal.
No one would ever speak of the tragedy that swept their town.
The cellar was chained shut, and the cemetery gates closed.
Years passed, and all was forgotten.
This fall, the chains will be lifted,
and the cellar doors opened.
The hills will come to life with the vengeance they once had.
The sky will glow red again, with an un escapable fury.
This time it will not be stopped.
It has been un leashed.
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