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Published: 2024-01-29 15:12:05 +0000 UTC; Views: 3780; Favourites: 47; Downloads: 6
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I was told not to be at the old cemetery around three o'clock in the morning. They said that "she" was going around there looking for victims. I didn't believe the old men's rumor and went there after a few good drinks.I waited a long time in the cold spring air, surrounded by the dead bodies of people who had long since rotted away when my great-grandparents were in their diapers. A few bats flew around me here and there, and when my cell phone read three o'clock in the morning, I scoffed, as the dead were the only ones keeping me company.
I don't remember exactly what happened when or how, only the immense cold and my racing heart when I saw "them". When I came to, the sun was bright again and bees were buzzing around me in the meadow next to the old cemetery where I lay. I would like to say that I had one glass of good old whisky too many, but every time I want to believe it I look at the note that was in my jacket pocket.
It said in strangely old-fashioned writing :
"Thank you for your visit last night"






























