Three weeks later, it's late evening during autumn at High Point Cemetery. The cemetery rests on a rise that overlooks a lake that sits inside the city limits of a small Midwestern town. An owl makes its evening calls as a baritone sound that only a raven can make echoes through the night. Three teens are laughing and smoking cheap low-grade weed, and passing around a bottle of over-the-counter cough syrup as they attempt to push over a headstone. Try as they might. it proves too heavy, and their intoxicated efforts are in vain.
The group of teens is comprised of two boys: Ricky and Tom, the third is a girl, Adelle. They are donning frumpy emo-goth style clothing to connote their alternative tastes, befitting a small-town scene-kid. Adelle takes another puff off the joint and says, “give it up retards, you're both too weak to push it over, for fucks sake,” as she rolls her eyes. She takes out her phone and says, “this stupidity is so going on my Snap story,” as she takes a picture with the flash on, she thinks she sees something off in the shadows. “Guys, I think I saw something, or I'm really fucked up,” and laughs.
Tom is an overweight boy with his hair dyed black with two months of blond roots showing, says, “Yeah, you saw me about to take a piss.” He stumbles over to the bush and starts to urinate while saying, “I'm not scared of the rumors, nothing here but the dead and gravestones!”
“You're such a dumbass Tom, I hope a zombie gets your ass in that bush,” says Adelle as she takes a drink of the cough syrup.
“No such thing, just on TV, man,” Tom says as he laughs.
In the darkness of the bush where Tom is zipping up his fly, a huge shadowy figure steps into view. Whatever it is, it stands near seven feet tall. As it reaches out a huge grasping hand in front of Tom's face, Tom is simply too stunned in fear to call for help or barely make a sound or move. The only thing Tom manages to mutter to himself is, “Oh shit. . ."
In a smooth deep voice, the shadowy figure says, “Obeyyy my commands, weak minded fool.”
Tom says in an emotionless tone, “Yes, my master,” with a blank expression on his face.
“Strangle him,” the shadowy figure says while gesturing toward Ricky.
Ricky is a tall slim kid with shoulder-length, greasy dark hair, a pimply face and has bad posture. He's laying awkwardly on his back on a large headstone while taking a puff of the joint when suddenly Tom grabs him around the neck and starts to strangle him. Ricky tries to push him off and gasps for air while blood is being restricted to his brain.
Adelle sees what's happening and is not sure if it's for real or if they are acting stupid and says, “Hey, guys, you can stop messing around. . . guys?” she says with more concern in her voice, “Guys fucking stop it, oh my god!”
Ricky is losing consciousness but manages to land a hard blow across Toms jaw, knocking him back. Breathing heavy and gasping for air he pushes Tom away but Tom grabs for his throat again. Ricky lands a right-cross square on Tom's jaw, and it sends him backward, causing him to bash his head open on a granite headstone, killing him.
“Oh, fuck man, what the fuck did you do that for!? Oh, shit man, oh shit!” says Ricky, still trying to breathe, he panics and runs off, leaving Adelle behind.
Adelle using her phone as a light source, screams from seeing all the blood coming from Toms head and quickly ascertains that he is probably dead or dying, she says, “Oh god,” feeling sick when she is suddenly grabbed by the hair from behind and is pulled backwards hard, making her land prone on the ground. She screams for help as she is dragged off to a nearby mausoleum.
The next day a Police Patrol car parks in front of a dilapidated Victorian Era house that has been converted into apartments. A policeman walks up to unit 313b and knocks loud and hard, like a cop is inclined to do. The policeman is Sergeant Lincoln. Sergeant Lincoln is a medium height, muscular man in his late 40s with a bit of a belly on him and a receding hairline.
A middle-aged, mildly obese woman with dark, curly shoulder-length greasy hair opens the door, she exhales her cigarette smoke and says, “Uh. . . what did he do now?” while wearing her usual worn-out sweatpants and a Christmas sweater from 10 years ago.
“Hello, I'm Sergeant Lincoln, I'm following up on a double AMBER Alert, I need to speak to Ricky Miller, ma'am,” says Sergeant Lincoln.
The woman replies, “He's my worthless son, he's home and not doing shit but playing damned video games. . . as usual.”
“I need to speak to him, according to Adelle Johnson's mom, she left with your son and Tom Gram last evening, she's been missing since then,” says the sergeant.
The woman turns her head to yell into the apartment and says, “Ricky, dammit, come here dummy and you better not have done something stupid again. . ." as she takes another puff of her cigarette.
Ricky walks up wearing sweatpants that have been cut-off at the knees to make them into shorts and for a shirt he is wearing a faded retro-style Iron Maiden t-shirt. He has his head hung like a dog about to get beat and says, “Um, yeah?”
The sergeant says, “For the record, are you Ricky Miller?”
Ricky looks at his mom nervously and she says, “Did you forget your name dummy, why you looking at me?” as she smacks him on the back of the head.
Ricky says, “Ouch dammit mom, jeez, okay okay, yeah I'm Ricky,” as he looks at the sergeant.
“Okay numb nuts, so you and your friends were partying in the cemetery last night and being idiots, right?” says the sergeant and he continues, “I got two missing kids, and you were probably the last one to see them, what the heck happened kid? Tell me the truth. . . don't fucking lie to me,” as he puts his hands on his hips, making sure one is resting on his firearm to intimidate.
“I wasn't being an idiot, um, it's fucked up man, Tom. . . Tom Gram just flipped his shit and attacked me, I had to get him off me and he fell and hit his head. . . he looked hurt bad, there's no way he could have got up man but how did you know I was there?” says Ricky, nervous and scared.
“Well, we used the phone's GPS on Adelle Johnson's phone and tracked it down and found it at High Point Cemetery and nothing else, no Adelle Johnson and no Tom Gram,” says Sergeant Lincoln and he goes on, “What happened to them? I know you were there, kid because the last picture she took was of you and Tom Gram trying to push over a headstone.”
Ricky is almost crying by now, says, “Look man, I don't know what the hell is going on, Adelle was fine when I split and I don't know what happened to Tom, I'm sorry that's all I know,” as he looks down, defeated.
Ricky's mom speaks up, “Are you going to charge him or something because he didn't do anything, and he's scared?”
Sergeant Lincoln holds up his hands and shakes his head, “I got nothing, but I might come back again,” as he answers his cell phone and turns his back as he walks to his patrol car, “Yeah, Sergeant Lincoln here.”
The voice on the phone is a woman, “Hi Andy, I mean sergeant, you got anything new about the AMBER Alert/missing person case?”
Sergeant Andy Lincoln sighs and answers, “Um, which one would that be Ms. Campbell? We got a lot lately. . . I know all this weird stuff makes for entertaining news but it's bad for my hairline. . ."
It's 4:00 AM the next morning and an alarm clock is going off, it's still dark outside as the forty-something man turns it off. His name is John Hanson, he's in good shape for a man of his age and has some gray hair. His wife mumbles something unintelligible with her face half buried in her pillow.
“Shhh, it's okay hun, it's just time for my jog,” he says as he kisses her cheek and says, “Be back in a bit.”
A few minutes later John is jogging in his hoodie and compression athletic pants on the empty dark street. He's confident enough and doesn't believe in silly superstitions, however, it's still unnerving running past High Point Cemetery, especially with all the rumors about the weird stuff about the place. So, it can't hurt to pick up the pace as he passes it, the faster it's behind him, the better. He looks straight ahead, as if to not give any consideration or acknowledgment to the cemetery.
A huge shadowy figure steps out from behind the trees ahead of him on the road about ten yards away, it looks about seven feet tall as it's long jacket or cloak blows in the breeze to the side. John's routine has been observed for some time now and this was planned.
The appearance of the ominous figure causes John to stop as he tries to figure out what he's looking at. He studies the shadowy figure as the long jacket or cloak seems to turn into enormous black wings spread wide and he says, “What the hell?” That's when he sees glowing blackish-purple eyes approaching him from the side bushes. Then suddenly, before John can move, a club smashes him in the head, causing him to collapse to the street. Standing over him is a pale Tom Gram, the back of Tom's head gashed open, and you can see brains inside, his eyes glowing purple with a blank expression on his face and mouth open as a beetle crawls out.
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Later that day, a pretty redheaded woman steps out of her small SUV, dressed professionally but casual enough to not stand out too much in the small Midwestern town. She's a journalist for the local small-town newspaper; she's a bit too clever, over-educated and hopelessly underpaid. It's a cool autumn day at High Point Cemetery with overcast skies. The leaves on the trees are being blown by the breeze. They are the colors of autumn; burnt umber, shades of crimson and hues yellow. As the leaves move in the breeze, they make a hushing sound as the red-headed-woman walks over to the extremely tall, odd looking grounds keeper.
The red-headed woman says, “Hello, I'm Ivory Campbell, you're Theodore Graycroft, the grounds keeper here, right? We spoke on the phone earlier,” as she holds out her hand for a handshake while he only stares at her hand like he doesn't understand the concept of a handshake. After a few seconds she withdraws her hand with a look on her face that says she is both annoyed and thinks he's a weirdo, “Okay. . ." she says quietly to herself.
The odd man stares at her for about ten seconds before speaking, “I told you on the phone. I got nothin' else to say to you that I didn't already done tells ya on the phone, I don't know shit about nothin',” as he holds his leaf blower, looking like he's staring at her boobs as he speaks. “I ain't seen no weird shit or nothin' here, just headstones and people leavin' shit for dead people, like always and there's no point to be comin' out here for nothin'.”
She replies, “Maybe. . . but I wanted to have a look for myself,” as she looks away and around the cemetery. Trying to ignore his awkward stares. Ivory is no stranger to gawking men, but this guy is particularly weird and uncomfortable to be around. Then she continues, “So the reports of people being attacked here aren't true? What about the other stuff that's been happening, like the on-going reports of freshly disturbed graves and the strange noises throughout the night, that isn't true?” As crows squawk in the distance.
“No, dammit. . . it's probably just kids fucking around” Theodore replies but this time he looks away uncomfortably, “We're done here, I got work to do.” Placing his ear protection on, he starts up the leaf blower and continues working without even taking a second look at her again.
Not satisfied with the results of that interaction and with it raising even more questions, she takes a walk around the cemetery to have a closer look. She looks for old headstones with freshly disturbed dirt. After walking around the cemetery for about thirty minutes she finds a few that look suspicious. After a bit she finds what could be dried blood on the corner of a headstone. This provides her with enough curiosity to stakeout the cemetery for a few hours after it gets dark.
Ivory takes out her cell phone and texts as she walks back to her SUV, “hi Steve, I'm going to be working late tonight okay babe?”
Steve replies, “Ok, filling in for Bill tonight, so I'm on call anyway, love u.”
She replies back, “love you too,” accompanied with a kissy-face emoticon.
It's dark outside while Ivory sits in her SUV, looking bored. She parked in an empty parking lot right outside the cemetery fence because the gate is closed and locked after hours. Rock music playing quietly on the stereo while she keeps watch, filing her fingernails as she passes the time. The song playing on her radio is War Pigs by Black Sabbath.
Looking through her small binoculars when she hears something that sounds like an old creaking door and a loud bang similar to a door hitting against something. Over by a mausoleum she sees a dark shadowy figure come out of the door and walk away from her into the fog and darkness.
Ivory turns off the car stereo and takes the key out of the ignition, hops over the fence and heads over to the structure with her small flashlight. Once she reaches the structure, she can clearly see the door is ajar, so she pushes it open and shines her light inside, she asks, “Is anyone in here?” speaking quietly then enters to shine her light around. In the corner of the floor, she sees part of the stone floor is broken and missing, there is a hole with a crude ladder that leads down into the darkness. Curiosity over caution, she leans in closer to shine her light down and hears distant echoing mutterings and... “Is that moaning and screaming in the distance?” she wonders, thinking to herself. “Could it be the wind making strange noises?” she thinks to herself. The limited light source doesn't reveal much detail below, this only increases her level of curiosity.
She quickly heads back to her vehicle and decides it's best to not go down there alone, even if what she thought she heard isn't down there, it's still dangerous and subterranean with possible dangerous gases and the possibility of cave-ins. Upon reaching her SUV, she gets in and heads home.
The next morning, she is at the cemetery again, confronting Theodore the grounds keeper. “Did you know that there is a mausoleum over there with a door unlocked and in the corner on the floor there is a hole that looks like it goes into a tunnel or cave down there?” Ivory questions him.
Theodore looks at her for a moment with a sideways look with a slight dissatisfied frown and says, “some of those are about a hundred years old. . . but I'll look into it when I have the time,” as he looks away from her and continues his work.
Ivory has a look of frustration on her face but resolves to look into the matter further, with or without the help of the useless groundskeeper.
Later in the day and after substantial convincing, she is back at the mausoleum with her boy-friend Steve McCoy. Steve is the fire-fighter with the local Fire Department. “I'm so glad you're doing this for me baby, you're so sweet,” she says as she smiles at him and touches his arm to make reassuring physical contact, the way a woman does to let a guy know she likes him.
Steve says, “No problem, babe. . . but you owe me. . ."
“Mmhm,” Ivory grins at him and gives him a wink, hinting at a special reward later.
They go inside the structure after looking around to make sure no one is looking. Ivory shows him the hole in the floor. Upon closer inspection she sees what looks like occult symbols around the hole.
“Yeah, okay, this ladder looks sturdy enough I suppose. . . I don't know why you want to know what's down here babe. . . but okay.” As he starts down the ladder and gets about halfway and comes back up. “Okay, it's some kind of subterranean cave and tunnel system, this is outside my skill set but I have a friend that does this kinda' stuff.” Steve continues as he climbs up, “you remember Paul, right? He might be interested, he's done this stuff for years, all over the world.”
Ivory looks at him with a grin, “Yeah. . . and with these occult symbols, I want to bring along my own expert. . ."
“Oh God, not that weird guy. . ." Steve groans as he rolls his eyes, knowing who she's thinking of.
In Chicago, a cell phone is ringing and Story October picks it up and looks at the name of the incoming call, “Ivory Campbell? Wow, okay.” He accepts the call and receives a flash in his mind of the stone ring from his Vision.
After a few seconds of silence, Ivory speaks, “Hello? Is anyone there?”
Story snaps out of his trance, “Uh, hey Ivory. . . It's been a few years, what's up?” while trying to recover and make his voice sound normal and friendly.
She replies with, “I need your help.”
“I know. . . tell me everything,” says Story to her in a serious but calm tone while sitting back on his worn out old-looking chair.
“There has been a series of strange events and stories I've been following for a few years now and I believe they are all somehow connected. It's a gut feeling but I have no hard evidence.” Says Ivory, taking a long breath, then continues, “I believe it's all centered around this local cemetery. . . pets vanishing, people missing, giant rats the size of dogs, recently disturbed graves and this sinking feeling that something bad is going to happen.”
Then Story replies, “Yeah. . . I have the same feeling. . ."
In the apartment building across the street there is a woman watching through binoculars. She's watching Story October talk on the phone; she says quietly to herself, “He better not be talking to some nasty little slut.” Her face gets an angry, hateful look when she sees him smiling and sitting back relaxed. The woman is Claire Oberhauser, she is obsessed with Story and has an apartment across the street from him so she can keep an eye on him. In her twisted mind they are lovers, and she believes Story is her Master even though he doesn't know it yet.
When finances permit, she attends all of his lectures at various paranormal conventions around the USA; since she inherited a sizable amount of money, her finances usually permit. Although she is college educated, her main career choice is stalking Story October.
Looking through her binoculars, she sees him turn the lights off and go to bed. . . well it's bed for him but it's more like passing out on the couch with a bottle of cheap rum. Now she can do what she's been planning, she grabs her keys and crosses the street and enters Story's apartment building.
Standing in front of his door, she takes out her keys, on her key chain is a very special key, it's the key to Story's apartment. Getting that key wasn't easy, she had to date the apartment manager just so she could steal the key and have a duplicate made. Dating the apartment manager wasn't too bad in her mind, she feels the ends justify the means. . . at least it got her close to Story October sometimes. A few times when they passed in the building entrance, he even smiled at her and said a greeting.
Carefully and quietly, she opens the door to Story's apartment and enters like she's done many times before, “but this time I can do it for real, I can do what must be done, it's only for his own good,” she says quietly to herself. Story is sleeping on the couch as she stands over him and reaches into her jacket to pull out a nine-inch kitchen knife. Claire holds the knife over him, straight out from her chest and starts to sob while she says, “This is for the best Story, I'm sorry, I know how much you suffer. . . like me. We should die together to be free.”
Claire loses her resolve when Story stirs in his sleep. She starts to panic and drops the knife on the floor, runs out of the apartment and back to her place. Once she is inside her own apartment she climbs on her bed and lifts her skirt to refresh the cuts and scratches of Story's name on her upper thigh with her favorite razor. While still in her boots and wearing all her clothes she curls up in a ball and cries herself to sleep. . . like she does every night.
The next morning, Story wakes up groggy with a bit of a hangover and manages to sit up. Looking down, he sees a kitchen knife on the floor and picks it up and says, “What the hell?” because he knows it's not one of his. He has a quick blurry Vision of a person in his head as he holds the knife. The woman looks familiar, he's seen her somewhere before but can't remember where. . .
Most people might find a strange knife on their floor to be alarming but within the context of Story's strange life, the phenomenon of a strange knife on the floor is quite pedestrian. It's simply an ordinary kitchen knife, not even a cool ancient sacrificial dagger or anything like that or an artifact from another dimension. . . nope, just an ordinary kitchen knife. In the grand scheme of weirdness, it's not particularly interesting to him, so Story pays no more mind to the strange knife, and besides, what is there to do about it anyway? He figures maybe before he passes out to make sure his door is securely locked, maybe install a security camera but the latter definitely sounds like too much effort to him.
That afternoon, Story is putting a couple bags in his black cargo van, checks his phone again for the GPS directions. Makes a call to Ivory, she answers, and he says, “Yeah, Ivory, I'm heading out. I should be at the hotel in about three hours,” as he climbs in his van.
Ivory replies back, “Okay Story, it'll be good to see you again.”
Story October tells her goodbye as he starts to drive away.
Watching from across the street is Claire, sitting in her car, she follows him as he drives off, leaving the Chicago skyline and the iconic Sears Tower behind.