It is evening and everything is silent. Night has now enveloped the land as those still living have fallen into an eternal rest. Even the effervescent chirps of cicadas were nowhere to be heard. The previously dilapidated cemetery filled with marble gravestones, weathered bones, and vivid, crimson leaves were now submerged within inky black paint. Upon looking up at the sky, it was as if a dark burial shroud had been placed over the graveyard. The stars lighting up the otherwise blackened sky were pinpricks within the gloomy cloth.

Night had fallen, and yet, Noël could not have been happier. Wishing Lila a pleasant evening, the vampire departed from the witch’s gradually fading reflection within the small puddle.

Despite his presence within the lonesome graveyard, the assessment of there being no signs of life in this sacred land was still unwaveringly true. Afterall, Noël had much in-common with those sleeping beneath the earth. He, too, was one of those blessed lost souls not too long ago…and, as he is a vampire, even he—

Had died. Though, unlike those resting six feet under, he did not jump for joy upon being blessed with a new chance at life.

Instead, he wished to join them.

I wonder who will kill me. With a slight spring in his step in juxtaposition to his morbid desires, the young vampire continued his trek further into the cemetery.

---

The traveler felt a strange sense of malaise upon staring up at the wispy branches obscuring the starry night sky. He had been walking for a few mere moments, surely, but how could he even be able to tell? With no clock in sight or a person for miles, there was no way to be certain.

Lost in his thoughts, Noël almost missed a pale, translucent face peeking out from underneath a large elm tree. The ethereal, almost glowing stranger had a sorrowful expression on his face as he calmly stared at the lost vampire.

“Excuse me, would you happen to know the name of this cemetery?” Noël asked as he slowly approached the ghost child. “Or, what country we currently reside in? I’m loathe to admit this, but I’m rather lost…”

The pale, silent ghost’s lips twitched into a smile [or was it a grimace?] before spinning on his heels and sprinting forwards into the trees that encased the cemetery.

Noël’s arms subconsciously reached out in an attempt to placate the ghost. But, as the specter slowly started to meld into the dark labyrinth of trees, Noël feared it was for naught.

Sighing, Noël picked up his pace and stepped foot into the woods. Not once turning his gaze back towards the cemetery, Noël resolutely followed after the ghost. This feels strangely nostalgic.

He looked forward only to see a plain dirt road. Covered in brambles and cobwebs, it was apparent the forest pathway had not been used by living souls in quite some time. Noël stepped over loose gravel as he turned left and right, trying to determine as to where the mournful phantom wandered off to. Crimson red eyes squinting into the dark collection of trees, the vampire was soon alerted to a faint hazy shimmer from beyond the left side of the gravel road. In determination, Noël embarked towards the peculiar haze.

He wasn’t sure if it was the air or the generally eerie nature of the woods, but…whatever it was, he had felt uneasy ever since he left the cemetery. Almost as if someone was watching him.

Noël’s eyes darted towards a rose bush as he quickly realized the delicate flowers had been frozen solid.

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A faint chill seeped through the trees as he nearly stumbled into the ground. Much to his surprise, even the earth was encased with a light sheet of ice.

His gaze slowly slid up as he heard a peculiar muffled sound…as if music were being played through his grandmother’s old gramophone.

Help me……

Huh? Noël’s eyes widened as a loud, sorrowful hum emanated from a hunched shadowy figure. The faceless creature was singing a tragic tune as it slithered across an embankment of still water. Not daring to approach the shadowy creature or willing to bring attention to himself, Noël diverted his eyes away from it and cautiously walked past the embankment—

Only to feel a slight tug at the end of his sleeve. His heart dropped at the sight of the unexpected face, or, well, lack thereof. Looking down, he locked eyes with another shadowy creature. It was quite short, even shorter than the already small vampire. While featureless and completely pitch black, the phantom’s face (?) was pointed downwards, as if it were in mourning. It possessed a vaguely humanoid shape, but beyond that Noël could discern nothing.

Hello, lost one. Why are you here?, the figure questioned the perplexed vampire.

The shadow figure still had a strong grip on his sleeve.

“I apologize, but I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. I’m not lost.” The featureless creature titled its head up at Noël and giggled.

Of course you’re lost; we all are. Why do you think we’re here?

Noël blinked in surprise as the shadowy figure let go of his sleeve. It did a little curtsy before laughing once more. Icicles now hung from branches as the creature leaned against the mulberry tree.

Will you help us all? Or lead us astray? The shadowy figure questioned lightly, softly. You look so much like her…

Noël doesn’t move. He doesn’t answer. His voice hitches in his throat. Who…would that be? He wonders, but he dares not ask.

Both you, and her…there’s something dark.

The shadowy figure coyly lifts its hand to where a mouth could be were it something else—more tangible or perhaps more alive. Lucky for you, I have pity on a dead boy. But, not everyone here will be as gracious as me. That woman ended us, but…she’s ruined you too.

Noël is silent.

You’ve been doomed to misery ever since you met her. The figure’s voice is almost comforting. Or, I would say you’ve been cursed to a miserable life from the moment you were brought into this world.

Noël stills. “Whatever could you mean?”

You’ll figure it out, dead boy. The ghostly figure melds into the looming shadows of the forest…and is gone. Or, it should be……

We exist everywhere, but if you see another like me, ignore them. Pretend you cannot see them. The figure’s voice is soft. Noël has to strain his ears to catch its final words. Beings like us, we’re jealous of the living…even those who pretend, such as you.

The forest is silent.

Nothing can be heard……

Until………

The faint sounds of sobbing starts to pick up from the riverbank.

Nursery rhymes can be heard from within tree tops