The grave yard nightmare

The night enveloped the world in a thick, suffocating fog, transforming it into an eerie realm. The moon, partially obscured, cast a ghostly halo that shimmered through the haze, lending an almost ethereal quality to the atmosphere. A dense mist clung to the cemetery, wrapping its spectral tendrils around the ancient wrought iron fence designed to protect the living from the restless spirits that roamed among the graves. On this unsettling evening, the gate swung open halfway, as though inviting the unsuspecting to enter.

Legends whispered that the departed would follow those who wandered carelessly, and tonight, my heart was heavy with dread. Each step along the familiar path felt reluctant, as if the very earth beneath me sensed my trepidation. Though I had traversed this route countless times, an unprecedented unease washed over me. The freshly turned earth of newly laid graves stood stark against the night, their mounds a testament to lives recently extinguished, and the sight sent a chill racing down my spine.