Excerpt:
I had no idea where the path would lead me, but I told myself I’d be fine as long as I did
not veer from it. The insects hiding in the foliage sang their quiet night songs, and fireflies began
to twinkle in the shadows, trying to convince me I made the right choice and would be safe. On
the contrary, the trees seemed to reach out for me, unashamed of their menacing appearance. I
walked carefully to keep my noise down, not wanting to draw attention to myself or scare off the
voice I heard.
The path continued some ways before it joined with a clearing dotted with headstones.
Blaylock Grove Cemetery. The headstones were in ruins, kicked over by vandals, no longer
marking where the dead were buried. Weeds grew around the grave markers, and fallen branches
cluttered the ground. What the hell was the deal with this place? There was a bad vibe here.
I crouched next to a headstone and Googled Blaylock Grove Cemetery. Wikipedia said it
was a small abandoned cemetery that was known for its ghost sightings and haunted reputation.
My arms got goosebumps, but I continued reading through a few sites. Some believed that the
spirits were restless and angry because of the disrespect for their final resting place. In the 1950s,
it became a place where couples would come to make out. There was also an increase in
vandalism, and it was around this time when the burial ground became known as “haunted.” In
the early 1900’s a mob boss and his goons were rumored to have dumped their victims’ bodies
into the lagoon at the edge of the cemetery. I looked around and saw a clearing in the treeline
ahead; the moon shimmered off of what must be
the lagoon. The image gallery showed photos of the grounds in daytime and with infrared
film. Looking at the images only made me feel even more unsettled.
“Jace,” the female voice whispered to my right in a seductive tone. I stood frozen in one
spot, staring in the direction of the voice, staying as silent and statuelike as I could. In my
periphery, I saw a shadowy figure walk across the clearing toward the voice. I couldn’t make out
a face so I stood and followed it, hoping for a closer look. In my haste, I snapped a branch
beneath my foot.
Crap!
The figure turned toward me. His mouth twisted in a snarl, and his eyes were solid black.
Despite these deformities, the face was familiar. My heart and mind warred with each other.
Instinct told me to get the hell out of there, but my heart still thrummed for the guy who had
captured it four years ago.
Seeing him like this, though…
Jace Peters was a good guy, not evil like the demon before me.
The sound of fast footsteps and cracking branches gained on Jace. I looked to the sound.
In the dim moonlight, I could only see a large, dark figure running at full speed. Jace took off
and darted between two giant willows at the edge of the cemetery. The dark figure dove at
him—and they both vanished before they hit the ground.
What the…?
I grabbed my backpack and ran to the willows, but there was no sign of them. I ducked
under the weeping branches and studied the base of the tree, searching for any clue. I grabbed the
trunk to steady myself, but quickly retracted my hand when I felt the wet sticky liquid. Using my
phone light to illuminate, I found the willow trunk coated in a dark sap. Putting my soiled fingers
to my nose, I could not smell a thing. I touched my tongue to it, and tasted the metallic warmth
of blood. Shining the light up the tree top showed me the streaks started as high as I could see
and ran down to the roots. I walked to the other willow and found it also oozed blood. The leaves
and branches were unremarkable; only the trunks were affected.
Trees didn’t bleed, so what was going on here? Maybe this place really was haunted. Had
I witnessed two apparitions tonight, one being my dead exboyfriend?
Why was I blaming this on mystical things? I had never believed in ghosts and I always
thought those Ghosthunters shows preyed on gullible people. Well, I wasn’t a gullible person,
but I sure as hell saw two figures disappear right before my eyes tonight.
I needed to get out of there and get home. After I wiped the blood on the weeds below, I
grabbed my backpack. Stepping out from beneath the branches onto the path between the
bleeding willows, I began falling…down…down…down…
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