Damien Clark IV

Damien Clark IV

     Damien jumps the gate into the graveyard. He looks around for bright headlights coming from the main street; there are none. He walks down the east path to the far end of the graveyard. He hears it is where ghouls and ghosts come to life at night. The moon is high in the sky and the air is cold and crisp. All the headstones are old and crumbling away in this area.

     “How old is this part of the plot?” Damien said to himself.

     He continues around the trail and hears a noise coming from behind a mausoleum. He looks back towards the road and sees only darkness and fog. Wind chilling him to the bone, he walks towards the sound. Walking very slowly and timidly, he reaches it and grips the handle and pulls. He pokes his head inside and doesn’t see anything but brick walls and an open empty coffin.

     “I am not fucking checking that out… Nope.” He bursts out.

     Damien closes the door and starts to walk away when he hears the noise from inside again. He takes three fast steps and opens the door wide open. Taking a big breath, he walks to the coffin. Covered in goosebumps, he looks inside and the door slams behind him. He runs to the door and kicks it.

     “Open this fucking door, asshole!” He yells.

     “You’re not supposed to be out, Damien.” A voice said from behind him.

     He feels weak and turns around and looks at the bloody woman standing in the coffin.

     “You been away for too long, better get back where you belong.” She said.

     “I just got here. You’re not real. I must have had too many tonight. I can’t even think straight.” Damien said.

     “I am real, Damien. And so are the dangers.”

     She was gone as soon as he blinks his eyes. Damien reaches for the door and walks out. The fog was getting thicker by the minute. Needing a break, Damien went to sit down by one of the old headstones. Noticing he cleaned part of the headstone, he was curious of the name of the poor soul he was sitting on top of.

     “Damien…Clark IV?” He said. “That can’t be right.”

     He looks at the birth and death date and sees: 11/07/1902 – 11/07/1992

     “I was born in 1992… This isn’t right.” He said as he started to get up.

     He put his hand down on the cold ground and it opens up. A hand pulls him close to the ground, another hand comes out and pulls him under the earth. He is completely covered and the grave starts smoking and opens up. A dried out corpse floats above the grave and steaming blood starts to rise and covers the corpse. Fully replenished, he places his feet on the solid ground. He looks at the grave and watches it cover the dried out remains of Damien.

     “Fuck, that was a long 24 years.” Damien Clark IV said.

The End