seem more than a few weeks ago that I was baptising her as a baby.”
Leading us further away from the church and into the darkest corner of the graveyard, I pulled my torch from my belt and switched it on. Weaving the beam of light before me, I could see rows and rows of gravestones, stretching out in every direction. Some lent to one side, others looked smashed or broken. The inscriptions on some had either worn away or had been covered by moss.
“This way,” Father Taylor said, leading us towards a tall tree that twisted up into the night sky like a giant ogre. As we grew near, Luke switched on his torch, and with both our beams of light, I could see a mound of disturbed earth ahead of us. With my heart racing in my chest, and my stomach tightening, we made our way towards it. Once we were a few feet from the broken and disrupted soil, Father Taylor stopped.
“What’s wrong Father?” Luke asked.
Crossing himself, he looked at us from beneath the brim of his hat and said, “I can’t go on, Constable. There is evil at work here tonight.” And he crossed himself again.
“Evil?” I asked him.
Ignoring me, Father Taylor spoke to Luke again and said, ”I’d be better served back in my church, praying for the soul of that poor girl,” then looking at the both of us he said, “I shall pray for you too.”
Without another word, the priest turned and hurried back off into the night and towards the church, which loomed like a shadow in the distance.
“I guess we go on alone,” Luke said looking at me.
I stared back at him.
“Are you sure you want to go on?” he asked.
“Don’t concern yourself about me,” I said, trying to mask my nerves. “I’ll be just fine,” I added, brushing past him.
Reaching the grave, I shone my torch into the hole in the ground. Luke came to stand beside me. The rain made a drumming sound against what was left of the coffin lid, which was splintered and ripped open. Crouching down to get a better look, I could see that the coffin was empty – the body of Kristy Hall had been taken. A putrid stench wafted out of the hole, and I covered my nose and mouth with my free hand.
“What can you see?” Luke asked, kneeling beside me.
“Not a lot,” I said, shining my torch over the sides of the hole and the ground surrounding it. Then placing the end of the torch between my teeth, I swung my legs over the side of the grave.
“What are you doing?” Luke asked, gripping my shoulder.
Taking the torch out of my mouth, I said, “Getting a better look.”
“Are you insane?” he asked, rain running down his face like tears. “Can’t it wait till daylight?”
“Not in this weather,” I told him. “The rain will wash away any clues that might be left.” Then biting the end of the torch again, I scrambled into the open grave.
“Hang on!” Luke shouted over the howling wind. But it was too late. I was gone.
I landed with a thump on top of what was left of the coffin lid. Wiping rain from my eyes, I pulled back the lid and some of it came away in my hands. The coffin was lined with white silk, which was now wet and soiled. Maggots and spiders scurried away, frightened back into the darkness by the light from my torch.
Inside the coffin, I found a small toy bear, obviously buried with the girl by her parents. Her favourite toy to accompany her on her journey to wherever it was she was going. Steadying myself in the slippery mud, I placed a hand against the side of the hole and bent forward. There was something glistening in the corner of the coffin. Balancing on the broken coffin lid, I reached down and picked up whatever it was. Holding it up in the torchlight, I could see that it was a set of rosary beads. Placing them back where I’d found them, I pulled away part of the coffin lid and turned it over in my hands. In doing so, I saw something that almost stopped my heart and made my blood run cold.
The underside of the coffin lid was covered in claw marks. There
Leading us further away from the church and into the darkest corner of the graveyard, I pulled my torch from my belt and switched it on. Weaving the beam of light before me, I could see rows and rows of gravestones, stretching out in every direction. Some lent to one side, others looked smashed or broken. The inscriptions on some had either worn away or had been covered by moss.
“This way,” Father Taylor said, leading us towards a tall tree that twisted up into the night sky like a giant ogre. As we grew near, Luke switched on his torch, and with both our beams of light, I could see a mound of disturbed earth ahead of us. With my heart racing in my chest, and my stomach tightening, we made our way towards it. Once we were a few feet from the broken and disrupted soil, Father Taylor stopped.
“What’s wrong Father?” Luke asked.
Crossing himself, he looked at us from beneath the brim of his hat and said, “I can’t go on, Constable. There is evil at work here tonight.” And he crossed himself again.
“Evil?” I asked him.
Ignoring me, Father Taylor spoke to Luke again and said, ”I’d be better served back in my church, praying for the soul of that poor girl,” then looking at the both of us he said, “I shall pray for you too.”
Without another word, the priest turned and hurried back off into the night and towards the church, which loomed like a shadow in the distance.
“I guess we go on alone,” Luke said looking at me.
I stared back at him.
“Are you sure you want to go on?” he asked.
“Don’t concern yourself about me,” I said, trying to mask my nerves. “I’ll be just fine,” I added, brushing past him.
Reaching the grave, I shone my torch into the hole in the ground. Luke came to stand beside me. The rain made a drumming sound against what was left of the coffin lid, which was splintered and ripped open. Crouching down to get a better look, I could see that the coffin was empty – the body of Kristy Hall had been taken. A putrid stench wafted out of the hole, and I covered my nose and mouth with my free hand.
“What can you see?” Luke asked, kneeling beside me.
“Not a lot,” I said, shining my torch over the sides of the hole and the ground surrounding it. Then placing the end of the torch between my teeth, I swung my legs over the side of the grave.
“What are you doing?” Luke asked, gripping my shoulder.
Taking the torch out of my mouth, I said, “Getting a better look.”
“Are you insane?” he asked, rain running down his face like tears. “Can’t it wait till daylight?”
“Not in this weather,” I told him. “The rain will wash away any clues that might be left.” Then biting the end of the torch again, I scrambled into the open grave.
“Hang on!” Luke shouted over the howling wind. But it was too late. I was gone.
I landed with a thump on top of what was left of the coffin lid. Wiping rain from my eyes, I pulled back the lid and some of it came away in my hands. The coffin was lined with white silk, which was now wet and soiled. Maggots and spiders scurried away, frightened back into the darkness by the light from my torch.
Inside the coffin, I found a small toy bear, obviously buried with the girl by her parents. Her favourite toy to accompany her on her journey to wherever it was she was going. Steadying myself in the slippery mud, I placed a hand against the side of the hole and bent forward. There was something glistening in the corner of the coffin. Balancing on the broken coffin lid, I reached down and picked up whatever it was. Holding it up in the torchlight, I could see that it was a set of rosary beads. Placing them back where I’d found them, I pulled away part of the coffin lid and turned it over in my hands. In doing so, I saw something that almost stopped my heart and made my blood run cold.
The underside of the coffin lid was covered in claw marks. There
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