The full moon in the cloudless sky illuminated the steps of four nocturnal visitors as they jogged through the entrance to the cemetery. The gates swung open at their touch, eliminating the need to risk injury jumping over the spearlike tips adorning the top ends of the vertical bars in the fence. The young men kept their chatter and mischievous giggles as quiet as possible while they went about their business. No one lived very close to the place, but this was Halloween and the cops were sure to drive by at least a couple times throughout the night. And, as the old saying goes, better safe than sorry. Especially when wrecking headstones is on the agenda.
Are we about done? Troy asked after they had been there a while. Its getting late, and our folks are going to wonder where we are.
Oh, dont be such a baby, Perry said. It aint nobodys bedtime yet. Come on, give me a hand with this one.
This one belongs to a Bethany Betty Golladay. Rodney spoke offhandedly, pointing with his hammer to a rose-colored marker before him. Died in 1953. Well Betty, this ones for you! A powerful swing ended with a loud crack and a chunk coming off the marker. Three more hits rendered it into so many pebbles.
Are you gonna bust up every one of these things here? Edward asked. Troys got a point. Sooner or later, someones gonna show up. Besides, that hammers kind of loud.
Just one more. Rodney ran over to a marker that sat far apart from the others. The stone was black, shaped like an obelisk. It was mostly hidden by the foliage that had grown over and around it. His first swing broke a chip off the side. A second knocked the tip off. A third put a large crack through the middle of it.
An especially cold gust of wind blew furiously through the graveyard just then. The four vandals looked to each other. Something was out of place with this burst of freezing air. It was far, far too cold for even this time of year. Then the screaming began. High-pitched and ear-piercing, it seemed carried upon the unnatural blast of wind. The voice and the frigid air it rode upon vanished as quickly as it had come. The vandals were thankful the temperature returned to its moderately tolerable level, but then there came another shift in the night air, something sensed rather than felt. No one said anything, words werent needed to express the thought that ran through their minds.
They werent alone.
Hey misser! A childs voice called from behind a pile of rubble that up until a few minutes earlier had been a four foot tall headstone.
The four youths spun around to face their discoverer. It was only a black-haired boy of about six, wearing pants, suspenders, a plaid shirt, shoes, and a cap that seemed like things out of an old movie. Troy almost wet himself at the sound of the kids voice. Perry and Edward werent overly concerned by the childs sudden appearance, although they wondered how the kid could stand in thirty-nine degree weather without a jacket of some kind and not be shivering. Rodney took charge of the situation by being as intimidating and threatening as possible. Hey kid, whatre you doing here? The biggest vandal virtually growled at the child. Dont you know its dangerous to be out here at night?
S-sorry s-sir, the little boy said. I was just wonnering how come you guys knocked over my rock.
Go on, answer the boy. A stern voice came from behind the obelisk. The stranger stepped close to Rodney. Everyone turned to see a tall, thin, clean-shaven man, standing roughly six foot four, clad in a black shroud. His wavy hair was a medium shade of brown and lay straight back, his features sharp and angular. No one could see his eyes clearly enough to tell what color they were. Unlike the boy, who had no particular smell, the tall man exuded an odor reminiscent of scorched earth and sulfur. Combined with his pallid complexion, the tall man cut a fearsome appearance. The little punk got here before I did, but he deserves his question answered anyway.
None of your business! Rodney wasnt impressed.
The dark man grinned evilly. I say it is. He threw a hand out. The gates to the cemetery slammed shut. The young men heard the locks click. The wrought iron barriers spired tips grew and turned over upon themselves, prohibiting anyone from climbing over. Now even Perry and Edward seemed anxious and worried.
Let us out. Rodneys voice was calm, but there was a lethality in his tone that clearly revealed his fearlessness. He shouldered his weapon easily, ready and eager to put it to use.
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