NEWS

WIRES

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Taking Innocent Lives

By Donia Najar

It was a warm foggy night in the beginning of August, when I was on my way to the cemetery walking toward the land of the dead. The sun was on its way down and the little village that I now lived in was in a strange atmosphere without sun or moon.

That night I was on my way to her grave. To my mother's grave. I still remember, the day, when she left me here all alone. I was still missing her every day. Missing the scent of her clothes and the way she looked at me. My dad and I had been there about a week ago to plant some flowers and I had by mistake forgotten the spade behind my mother's gravestone and had to go back to the cemetery to try to find it, while the full moon rose to shine my way.

The cemetery was located behind a little hill where old, large trees grew. And as soon as I was on the top of the hill, which lies beside the cemetery, my eyes began gazing out over the big cemetery, scanning down the hill. I hated the thought of dead bodies laying buried and just imagining seeing them, did scare me to death.

The tombstones were throwing their long shadows against the forest. I slowly went down to the deserted cemetery, while the sun was on its way down behind the dark forest. My mother was buried at the edge of the cemetery, just beside the caretaker's house. He was an awful person, whom everyone feared, a big man with rugged skin and a long gray and bushy beard. And he was without any doubt the oldest man in our village. I was relieved he had gone to some of his cousins that week, but still I feared seeing him here today, when I was all alone.

The spade that I was looking for should have been behind my mother's tombstone but it wasn't there. Curious, I sneaked to one of the caretaker's windows and tried to gaze throw it and scan the place with my eyes. The caretaker's house was very messy and I suppose he left in a hurry, because there was still food on the table. Beside the food table, I caught a glimpse of an iron metallic thing that looked exactly like my spade. At that precious moment I knew he had my spade, trapped inside his house. He must have taken care of it, I thought. Or he had been too stupid to take it. I tried to open the window, but it was locked. I tried to find a way in and save myself from punishment. But unfortunately the door was also locked, so I decided to go around the house to the shady part and right away I saw a window, that was wide open, I hesitated a while then I climbed in and went to take back what did belong to me, my spade, and went back the same way.

The clock was now a few minutes to twelve. I hurried back through the pitch black night and my vision became clearer under the scary moonlight.

I walked between the tombstones. Then, from nowhere, a thin ghostlike fog appeared and spread itself around me and surrounded my ground. I heard a weak song, which sounded very erie and solemn. I turned around to the forest on the other side of the graveyard and tried to locate its place. It reached closer and closer and after a while I could see fire spots. The singers of that spooky song seemed to do some kind of ritual. I turned around and hurried back toward the hill.

The faster I ran, the weaker I heard their horrible song. But still no matter when I ran, I could still see them coming behind me. They were dressed in black robes, hoods and some had torches and others had swords in their hands. They swept over the graves and sang. It seemed to be something in Latin because I couldn't understand a single word. I started to run down the hill as I saw them coming toward me. They didn't seem to see me at all.

Suddenly I crashed into someone and started screaming and in the moonlight I could barely see who it was. It was the caretaker, so I apologized but he didn't seem to notice me at all. I turned around to see what it was that grabbed his attention. I could see the silhouette of a leader, who was locating himself in the front of that heavy crowded black dressed crowd. He held the sword up in the air and seemed to shout something that I couldn't quite hear. The group started to run down the hill and before I could think of something, I felt someone grabbing my arm.

It was the caretaker, who held my arm and started to run toward them. They raised my body up and hit me with a stone, knocking me unconscious.

When I woke up, I could see their frightening shadows from the corner of my eye, while they were preparing some kind of a holy ritual ceremony and I heard them saying, that they are offering something to the devil to please him. I was so scared and frightened that I couldn't move.

Then I heard them whispering again. They danced around like ghosts and lit a ring of fire around me. They sang their horrible song once again and it sounded like it came straight from hell. It got hotter and hotter. Then the leader took his sword and pointed it at me and whispered some kind of ghostly words that almost took my consciousness. But the fire had caught me, it was very hot and I couldn't breathe. I felt how the flames were reaching into my bones and at last I couldn't fight anymore, while death had its claws into me. The Satanists had walked through the whole village haunted and killed all living souls.

After they had finished what they came for, they vanished just as fast as they came and the only thing they left behind was a pentagram carved in many big stones that were placed around that doomed village.

Donia Najar loves to write science fiction and review books. She says writing is her supplying energy that keeps her functioning. Contact Donia through NewsBlaze.