The Cemetery
At the request of the increasingly terrified townspeople, the Sunnyside Constable put together a team to investigate the reports. Armed with torches and armaments, they set out for the cemetery at twilight without fear — determined to investigate the matter and put the foolish rumors to rest.
The hardened men were seen wading their way through a thick miasma of fog as they approached the gates of the cemetery. The fog engulfed them, wrapping around their limbs in tendrils — like vines, or snakes. They disappeared into the dark mist and were never seen again. At least, not in any recognizable form…
Not all souls move on. The Reapers do their best to usher the deceased into the afterlife, but some stubbornly cling to this world.
For a time, they are soothed by our rituals of grief, the tokens we leave at the foot of their resting place. But eventually the living grow tired of tending to the dead. The visits become infrequent, and restlessness sets in. The dirt atop coffins, which once felt like a blanket, now only suffocates.
When we neglect the dead, their restful peace can become vengeful rage. And it becomes all too easy for malevolent entities to seize this fury; twisting it to serve their own demented ends.
