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The Woman in the Cemetery

Was she or wasn't she.......alive?

By Maurice BernierPublished 6 years ago 17 min read
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Photo by Ye Jinghan on Unsplash

Marcel, George, Mark, and Jimmy had looked forward to this all week. They wanted to see the new movie at the theater. The reviews seemed to be very favorable and it was agreed that they would go.

They were the best of friends. George and Marcel had been friends since high school. George loved telling jokes, especially the type that caused his immediate audience to groan. Marcel also loved telling bad jokes as well. They, despite weakness in their humor, went through difficult times. It was only right that they would be the best of friends. Mark was a bookworm. He was usually found reading some novel of some sort. He kept mostly to himself and spoke when he felt the need to do so. He would be the source of the biggest groan when a joke went sour. Jimmy was the daredevil. He seemed to fear nothing and was willing to go the extra distance in order to be noticed. As a part of his nerve, he was once known to the moon an entire subway car. Together, these guys found that they complemented each other in personality and decided to go together to various events.

The movie was to start on Saturday evening at 9 PM. They were looking forward to having the socks scared off their feet. It would be a distant drive of about an hour. Marcel, a part-time chauffeur, agreed to do the driving. George wanted to be the navigator. He would be able to give directions.Mark and Jimmy would tag along as passengers.

The drive was rather quiet with George sharing his best jokes. During the laughter, they passed the neighborhood cemetery. It was extremely dark and fraught with gloom. What seemed so peaceful earlier in the day seemed to be so hauntingly scary in the evening hours. Silence took precedence over the jokes. Each passenger thought about a loved one who had since departed this world. George thought about his dad who had died while George was in high school. Marcel thought back to his sister. She had died some eight years earlier. Jimmy thought about his recently deceased mother who struggled toward the end of her life. Mark thought about the various relatives that died during the course of his life. All in all, the burial ground was well respected by each occupant of the car. Jimmy wiped away the tears and decided that this would be the moment to break the silence. He broke in with his own contribution to the bad joke fraternity. In between the laughter, Mark looked out of the right passenger window. He wiped away a tear from his eye. He wasn't sure, but he saw something move somewhere within the cemetery. He took his hand to wipe his eyes again. He still saw movement. The music was now the only sound heard within the car. He reached over to Jimmy and tapped him on the knee. With silent agility, he pointed to the same window from which he saw the movement. Now, the figure seemed to be running. Who could run so fast? He looked out of the opposite window to see if there was an image on the other side of the car. Even if it was an image, the speed was too amazing. Mark called out to Marcel to stop the car. Marcel was puzzled at the request. They were on their way to a movie. At the rate that they were traveling, they would barely make it on time to the show. Any delay would make it extremely difficult to see the opening credits if they appeared, on top of the movie. Nevertheless, he complied and brought the car to a complete halt. It was dark. He put the headlights on the high beam setting and inquired about the request.

Mark and Jimmy pointed to the figure. It seemed to have stopped and looked directly at them. At this point, all eyes in the car were affixed to this mysterious figure. It looked like a human. The gender was not certain. It was formally dressed as opposed to being in jeans and sneakers. Hair seemed to flow and the figure was wearing a dress. It was a woman! A woman was walking around in the cemetery.

How did she get there? How was she left roaming the place? They surely checked the place before locking up for the evening. Did she yell for help?

The woman, who was in the distance, seemed to move closer to the fence. No one saw her feet move. Did she take baby steps? She moved so quickly earlier but moved so slowly at this point like she might have been gliding over the soil. Her dress flowed in the gentle breeze. Her neatly styled hair didn't seem to budge from the movement. As she got closer, her face showed that she was a very attractive woman with a partial smile. She said nothing but stared at the car and its occupants without a blink. Something seemed to be very strange about her.

She stopped moving. Her stare fixed itself upon just the occupants who stepped out of the vehicle. No one seemed to know what to expect next. She was now about six feet away from the fence. The guys were ten feet away. They stared at this woman who seemed to come from nowhere. George called out to her. She gave no name and no sort of response. She continued her stare. They moved closer to the fence. She did likewise. Now the parties were about three feet apart with a steel fence between them. The woman's complexion was rather pale with visible touches of makeup. Her lipstick also seemed somewhat crudely applied. Her stare, though, scanned the entire group. It was now a moment that the men wondered whether or not they made a mistake in stopping to spot this woman.

The road was deserted. The silence was permeated with the slight breeze and crickets in the area. The woman made no sound. The men heard their heartbeats. This woman who held such a beautiful smile now gave a feeling of impending doom. Why was she standing in the graveyard? She didn't look like she was afraid. How come she didn't ask them to free her? Normal people would look for freedom. She didn't seem to be fazed by her surroundings. She, instead, moved toward the gate. Still, it was too dark to see her feet. The guys moved with her cautious about what was to happen next.

She stopped at the gate. Her hand, as stiff as she appeared, pointed to the lock. The men stared at the lock and then looked at her. George seemed to know what was needed. He ran back to the car and retrieved a crowbar. He ran back to the gate, nearly tripping over a stone in his path. He proceeded to work on the lock.

The woman moved back a small distance. George wedged the bar in the lock and applied force. Jimmy assisted him. Within minutes, the lock fell to the ground with a metallic thud. It nearly broke the silence of the evening. Now the mysterious lady moved forward. She stopped. She wore no shoes. She ran over rocky territory in her bare feet. Still, she made no noise. They hopped into the car. The woman hopped into the backseat in between Jimmy and Mark. The guys moved over to give her room.She seemed so physically cold. She might have been in the place too long, but she was as cold as a snowball. How long was she in there? The movie was now a distant memory. They were now thinking about the woman from the graveyard. Who is she or, perhaps, what was she?

Marcel drove the car toward the next stoplight. There was a fast food place nearby. He turned the car into that direction. He figured that such a puzzling adventure warranted some fast food. All in the car agreed. The woman said nothing.

He found a parking space near the front door. He turned off the radio and all five of them left the car. Mark turned around to assist this woman. She wasn't there! He looked for Jimmy who only took five steps away from the car. He too didn't see the woman. Now the four of them looked at each other. Did she go to the restroom? Of course. She was stuck in the cemetery all night. She needed to refresh herself. Wait! George pointed in the distance of the cemetery. There she was. She was moving back toward the graveyard. Why? They just freed her from what must have been torture. Why was she going back? This made no sense to them. They decided not to give chase to her. She was making the choice to go back. No one was taking her back.

They watched as she seemed to glide back into the direction of the cemetery. If she wanted to be free, why was she heading back? They looked in a sense of surprise as her hair flowed in the gentle breeze. Now they were able to see that her dress seemed to cover her feet. They were not able to view her feet. Still, there was something very strange about her and her habits. She looked familiar and yet they were sure that they never met her. Still, she went about undaunted toward the land of the dead. Jimmy pushed Marcel toward the car. He wanted to find this woman. Mark and George were also growing in their curiosity. This woman had captured their imagination, at this point.Who was she? Where did she live?

Marcel shifted the car into fifth gear. It was now moving at 45 miles per hour. She was now visible in the windshield. She was moving at the same speed as the car. When Marcel accelerated, she seemed to accelerate as well. How can that be? How can someone run so fast? It wasn't humanly possible, yet it was happening before their very eyes.

She turned left and went past the cemetery gates. This time, the gate was locked. The lock, which was broken and lying on the floor, was now secured to the gate. How did she do it? Furthermore, when did she do it? She had moved too quickly to have time to repair the lock and put it on the fence. There were just too many questions to be asked and the guys were intent on finding her to get some answers.

The car pulled up to the gate. Again, Marcel turned up the high beams. She had moved further back from her original location. She turned around and faced them. Now, what was she going to do? There were too many surprises to sort out. This woman did not seem human—at least—anymore. She called out nothing. Instead, she offered the same cold stare. This time, she drifted slowly back into the darkness. Eventually, she disappeared. The guys looked at each other. Was this a living nightmare? Were they in the movie that they intended to see? They got back into the car and went home. This was something that had to be investigated in the morning.

The next day, the guys got together at George's house. They discussed the events of the prior evening. There were some things that did not seem to fit within the realm of their understanding. The main question still persisted—her identity was still unknown. They decided to do an investigation. They hopped back into the car and headed back to the cemetery.

It was 9 AM. The gates were wide open. People trickled in. There was a mourner here. A few minutes later, another mourner appeared with flowers. The sun was in the distance, ready to start another day. There was the redolence of fresh flowers throughout the territory. The guys drove around in the hopes of finding the mysterious woman of the evening. She was nowhere to be found.

They were now hungry. It was decided that they were going to stop at a fast food joint for a quick meal and resume the probe. They spotted a place near the cemetery. Marcel parked the car and George went in to get a place on the line.

They sat down and devoured their French toast amid an atmosphere of bad jokes and unanswered questions about the woman. There must be an answer somewhere. There had to be some logical explanation for this phenomenon. Mark excused himself to go to the men's' room. On his way back, he made a startling discovery—it was the picture of the woman. The picture was hanging near the manager's booth. Someone must know her. There was some black bunting encircling the frame. Still, it was a solid clue compared to what they had before. He summoned the other three and pointed out his accidental discovery. They agreed to seek out the manager and ask questions.

They managed to find him. They asked their questions to him while he looked at them in curiosity. He started crying. The tears caused him to break down and reveal something that caught them completely off guard-the woman was his wife and she had died sometime a year ago. They did not let on as to how they discovered her. Mark, who was studying to be a lawyer, pulled the guys aside. He hatched a plan to find the woman and get to the bottom for last night's strange events. He ascertained the name of the allegedly deceased woman. If she was truly dead, someone didn't tell her. She was way too active for a corpse.

Armed with the information they needed, they set out for the graveyard. They drove to the office to get a location of the plot. Now, with more information at their fingertips, they looked for her grave.

They drove over the rolling grounds. What seemed so strange the night before looked so peaceful right now. Still, they were uncertain as to what they were going to find.

They found the grave. It was undisturbed. How could someone leave their grave and not move the dirt? This was getting stranger and stranger. Still, they had more to do.

Mark pulled out a cellular phone from his pocket. He made a call. Within a half an hour, someone walked up to him with a sheet of paper. It was a court order. Mark wanted to exhume the body.

He turned over the court order to the cemetery office. Within minutes, there was a hydraulic shovel and six men with shovels. They began to unearth her body. Whatever questions they had were going to be answered by whatever is in the casket.

It was now noon. The casket, a brown mahogany box with silver handles, was now sitting in the bright sunlight. The dirt fell off in small and, sometimes, unnoticeable portions. They braced for what could be the true shock of their lives.

Jimmy was the first to walk over to the coffin. He brushed off some more dirt. He groped for the lock and lifted the lid. It was her. It was the lady who had met them in the same cemetery. She was indeed in her box. This was definitely the same woman. This is the woman. Now one part of the puzzle was solved. They knew who she was. They now wanted to know why she was still active.

They left and decided to leave and return later on in the evening. Armed with this new information, they were now on alert to what could be the supernatural. Was this a case of vampirism? Was this some sort of a haunting? She seemed to be cold to be imaginary. Mark recalled how cold her skin was to the touch. She was no figment of the imagination.

It was now 8 PM. They waited. In a few minutes, she appeared. This time, armed with additional lights and other tools, they turned up the lights upon her. One light shone on her face. She no longer had a pale look on her face. She looked angry. Was she going to attack them? Why was she so angry? She drifted slowly toward the gate. This time, she didn't stop. She was now near the gate. Soon, she was upon it. Instead of stopping, however, she pushed her way past the wrought iron fence that held her in the night before. The lock was helpless to her mere force. She was now free of the graveyard that held her body. She was now among the still living world. What was going to happen next?

The guys quickly reached into their pockets. If she was a vampire, they were about to check. They each pulled out across. They had hoped that they would be able to repel this apparition. What was she going to do next?

By then, it was too late. She drifted past them. It seems that she was not trying to bother them. Instead, she raised her hand and pointed directly in front of her. She then continued to drift in the direction of her finger. She seemed to be heading back into the town. The men jumped into the car and gave chase.

This time, Marcel kept his speed to her speed. He was just as curious as to what she was doing. Was she trying to tell them something? Why did she make a second appearance? Why was she so angry? There had to be a reason for this madness.

She stopped at the fast food restaurant where her husband worked. She turned around to face the car. She then gestured for them to come to her. The dead can't eat. Why did she come here? This was getting too strange to believe.

They got out of the car. George held on to the door. He had no desire to go in. He thought about the events of the last 24 hours. Instead of being at the movies, he was spending his evening with a dead woman. He then decided to go in and see what was going to happen.

The woman floated up the stairs to the commissary. The guys followed her in. Plates crashed to the floor. Utensils flew in all directions. The guys hit the deck in the hopes that they could avoid getting hit by everything.

The manager came out to the main dining room to see what was causing the commotion. When he came out, the truth came to light. He came face to face with his long-deceased spouse. What happened next was totally unbelievable.

He turned to run. Before he could take a few steps, the woman caught up to him. She took him by the throat with her left hand. He yelled for help. The guys tried to step forward. She held up her right hand. She was keeping help away from him. She drifted backward with her husband in tow. The guys were helpless to watch. She pushed past the door, turned around and headed back into the direction of the cemetery. The guys saw her drift into the darkness. By that time, they were able to free themselves. They made a mad dash for the car in the hopes of catching up with her.

At first, the old faithful wouldn't start up. Then she did. Perhaps whatever stopped them earlier had done the same to the car. Marcel floored it and sped off to the cemetery.

They caught up to both of them as they entered the burial ground. The huge iron gate closed behind them. The lock clamped itself around the center of the gate. When Jimmy got out to open the gate, he received a shock. It picked him up from the ground and threw him backward for a few feet. She wanted everyone to stay away. Within a few minutes, there was a huge scream, that of a man. In a few seconds, it was abruptly cut short. Whatever was alive before was definitely deceased now. There was no need to investigate any further.

The guys, mainly Mark, checked into the background of this strange occurrence. The man was accused of murdering her. He pleaded innocent and no one was able to prove otherwise—until now. You see, the wife was the only witness. Case closed.

THE END

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About the Creator

Maurice Bernier

I am a diehard New Yorker! I was born in, raised in and love my NYC. My blood bleeds orange & blue for my New York Mets. I hope that you like my work. I am cranking them out as fast as I can. Please enjoy & share with your friends.

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