The Cemetery - Epilogue

Part 1

Norman

12^th Feb. ‘20

I can’t explain what has been happening around here. I’m hesitant to equate what I’ve heard and seen to the stories I’ve read. I’m not some grade school boy scared out of his wits ready to jump to conclusions but I can’t explain what has happened, what has been happening. I’ve started to see things, hear things, feel things. In the snow banks, around the graves. I feel eyes staring at me. I don’t dare venture out once dusk falls. I keep my shack locked and the light burning into the night. Strange sounds come to me in the dark when it finally descends and my dreams. Oh lord my dreams.

                I had another dream a week ago. I can’t believe how similar they are to the others. A cold dark ambient vista. Silver lights, dancing shadows. It’s all the same. But I haven’t seen a being with red eyes. I thought it was my imagination running away from me playing me a fool because I read those accounts but I can’t tell. I’m afraid I’m going crazy with loneliness again. It happened once before, ten years ago and I don’t want to relive that ever again.

15^th Feb.

Jesus Christ I’m sweating. What did I just see? I’m afraid to sleep now. In the corner of my room, in the crack between the mudway and the closet I saw it. I saw…the eyes. Two red dots floating in the shadow. My god. I started to cry at the sight of it. Like a mouse being spotted by a large cat waiting to pounce, I had nowhere to run. I pulled my covers up close to my nose. I couldn’t help but keep looking at it, afraid that if I lost sight of the eyes that it would appear closer to me. That it would eat me. I can’t handle this.

16^th Feb.

I pulled the letters out again from that Amelia woman. I flipped to the back pages, where the “spells” were and looked them over. I know I’m going insane, believing some one hundred year old tale of demonic possessions and ghosts and fairies but I have to be sure. What harm would it do just to do something? I can’t sleep at night. I can’t afford to see a shrink. I’ll just read the notes, do the spell or whatever the hell and be done with it.

18^th Feb.

There’s been an insistent nagging itch in the back of my throat. I’m painfully aware of my teeth. I want to pry them out and smash them to bits.

                The dreams have been growing stranger and stranger. What is happening to me?

20^th Feb.

Please help me.

Feb.

I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of the month. My eyes are constantly glazing over with fear and pain. There is something in my room at night I can see its eyes. I feel it growing closer. I’m so afraid to sleep.

Feb.

I haven’t slept in days. I’m not even sure what day it is now. I’ve boarded up the windows and the door. Nothing can get in here now. I have secured my safety I know it.

It’s here. I can feel it behind me…around me…inside me.

The pages hold the key I know they do. I have to do something.

A seal? Some sort of spell? Lock it away.

If I write the correct runes on my skin, when I let it in it’ll be sealed within me. I can’t believe I’m doing this. But I can’t escape.

I know! I’ll seal it and burn myself. It won’t have an escape. It’ll be locked inside my corpse. I hope these notes aren’t a lie.

Another dream. It’s growing stronger now. I hear it speaking in my head. What does it want?

The men came to fix the sign. The cemetery is now officially closed. I will do what I must. It is tethered to me as I’m the only one left amongst the graves. It needs me. I’ll paint the runes tonight.

I have found what I must do. I will lead it out of the graveyard to an abandoned house on the east side. It seems to be clung to me like a line to a ship. Where I go it follows though I can tell it does not like to leave the graves. There I will contain it and no more suffering will come by its hands. I must do this. It will not break me.



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