The Grave Robber Continued

“Do you mind if I asked what happened? Or is that too much?”

                “They were murdered I believe, or at least that’s what I was always told.”

                “That’s… That’s terrible. I’m sorry I asked.”

                Another shrug.

                “Here,” Alec said, taking a sharp right onto one of the narrow side paths, “I think the grave is this way, if I remember right.” Dave let him walk ahead for a moment, watching him as he went.

                Alec, noticing he was walking alone, turned back to look at Dave.

                “Yes?”

                “Are you alright?” Dave asked.

                “Yes, why?”

                “That just seems, I don’t know, kind of-“

                “Traumatizing?” The two men stared at each other for a moment, Dave trying to read what Alec could possibly be thinking. Alec’s expression was just frustratingly vague though, a fogged up window to what lied beneath the surface.

                “Ya,” Dave said, “traumatizing. That’s the word.”

                “Do I seem ‘traumatized,’ to you?”

                Dave gaped for a second, opening his mouth only to close it, afraid to say the wrong thing.

                “Well, no, no,” Dave said, readjusting the bag on his shoulder, “just nervous is all. You seem nervous.”

                “Well I am, especially with the stories that have been going around. So let’s just get the job done, alright?”

                “Of course.” Dave hurried forward, catching up with Alec as they continued through the forested grave yard.

                With Dave’s bright flashlight leading them, it was only a few minutes before they found the grave they were looking for. The tombstone was a bright marble rock, smooth and new, with minimalistic engravings. It was in a small clearing near the back of the cemetery, one that was overgrown with weeds, many of the other graves being too weathered to even read. Behind them was the now pitch black path, and fifty yards to the sides and front was nothing but untamed forestry.

                “I hope your right about this guy,” Dave said, dropping the bag of shovels to the ground.

                “I am. He’ll have a good amount on him.”

                “Let’s get to work then.” With no other words they each took up a shovel and slammed it into the cold hard earth, beginning their work. In only a few minutes both were working up a sweat, puffing like steam engines in the frosty air. Nothing was more satisfying then when, after ten minutes of digging into the deep grave, Dave’s spade made a resounding thump.

                He smiled and stood up, stretching out his shoulders and back.

                “There we are, almost time to collect!” He looked over at Alec who seemed completely still, as if he was daydreaming.

                “Hey, bud, we’re here. Let’s get this done!”

                “Over there. A man.” Alec was still frigid, almost stuck in time, he was so still. His eyes were focused, wide and dilated.

                “Huh?” Dave turned around, glancing about the clearing, gripping his shovel a little tighter in his hand.

                “I saw him. He’s in the woods.”

                Intently, Dave looked into the woods at the edge of the clearing. He watched as the wind blew, ruffling the leaves and shifting the shadows. He hadn’t felt exposed until now, as he realized that they could be being watched from afar with ease.

                He listened to the wind. The sound of the rustling leaves.

                All was silent.

                There was no warning or pain when the shovel met the back of Dave’s head, as he fell to the ground quietly. 

The Grave Robber

“Well, it ain’t nothing’, I s’pose,” Dave smiled gently, revealing a pair of well-worn laugh lines. “Ya up for a bit of wanderin’ then?”

                “Do I have a choice?”

                “Nope!” Dave clapped him on the shoulder, then opened the car door in a burst of cold air. It was the type of cold that washes over you like a wave, freezing you quickly before settling deep in your bones.

                Dave walked around to the back of the truck, his breath steaming in short aired puffs. He tugged on his heavy woolen gloves before grabbing the burlap sack out of the cab, throwing it over his shoulder with the sound of clanging metal.

                “Let’s see if we can’t find your grave,” Dave said, coming back around to look at Alec. He was thicker then Dave had expected, still skinny, but even under his black Northface jacket you could see he had a bit of muscle on his wide frame. More now than ever, he was jumpy: twitching his leg; fiddling with his over the shoulder satchel; looking this way and that.

                “Come on, let’s get a’movin’ then.”

                “Alright.”

                Together they set off down the cobble path, side by side through the huge metal gates. As soon as they entered, the world turned a shade darker, the moonlight hidden by a thick canopy of trees that flanked the path.

                “Spooky, ain’t it?” Dave asked, nudging Alec with his elbow.

                “You sure you’ve never ran into anybody here?” Alec asked, clutching his bag. Dave cackled, a large sound that echoed through the whole yard, a cannon barrage compared to the cricket-filled silence before.

                “Ya worry too much, bud! If I tell you we’re good, then we’re good! And I’m telling ya, I’ve been going in an’ out of this county’s cemeteries for comin’ on forty years, and I’ve never seen another soul out here at this time a’night!”

                “Why?” Alec asked, nearly a whisper.

                “Hmm? Why what?”

                “Forty years. Why’ve you been doing this for so long?”

                Dave kept walking for a moment, saying nothing and shining his wide beam flashlight straight ahead. He shifted the bag on his shoulder, clearing his throat.

                “Well, ya see, I started when I was just a boy, about fourteen. My father had passed just a few years before, wh

Dave stopped, taking a slow breath in through his nose.

                “I don’t know why my mother let him wear it around, but she did. All I know is that when my step dad gave in to a brain tumor, I was getting my damn ring back.”

                The two men continued walking down the dark path in silence, Dave looking straight ahead with a knot in his jaw and Alec continuously scanning left to right.

                “You really hated your step father, didn’t you?”

                “You could say that, ya.”

                Another moment of silence.

                “Why, did you have someone like that?” Dave asked.

                “No. I never knew my parents.”

                “Oh,” Dave said. Alec simply continued walking and looking around with paranoia, showing no sign of indifference. “I’m sorry to hear.”

                Alec only shrugged.

My new story P.1

This sucker is a long one guys, roughly about two thousand words in length, a good portion of that just being straight dialogue. I'm still going through revisions at the moment, so I'm gonna give you the raw first draft (which, not to brag, is still not bad. I can put out some decent first drafts) and see what you think. It's called 'The Grave Robber,' enjoy!

“So,” said Dave, “How do ya know Tim?”

                “We met,” said Alec. Dave looked at him with a raised brow. After a moment of silence he looked back at the road, shifting his grip to the left hand and settling his right on the clutch.

                “That’s a little vague, don’t ya think?”

                Alec only shrugged, still keeping his eyes straight forward.

                “Well, how’d ya meet him?” Dave asked.

                “It was… well… it was on the job.”

                “Oh! Well that’s an interestin’ way to meet someone!” Dave laughed a little, something that sounded more like a mix between panting and a grunt. “Y’all share a grave or somethin’?”

                Alec nodded silently, beginning to fiddle with his satchel.

                “Get much?”

                “Yes,” Alec said, turning. His eyes were a soft golden brown, like melted butter. The eye contact was short, but strong. It was almost startling; the weight that his gaze held and the intelligence that it carried.

                “Oh?”

                “Couple hundred for both of us,” Alec said, turning back towards the passenger seat window.

                “Not too shabby, kid!”

                Another uninterested shrug.

                “So how many times have ya been out?” Dave asked.

                “Not much.”

                “Nervous any?” Alec stayed quiet, but as Dave glanced over he saw that he’d began shivering. Dave gave another signature grunt-laugh.

                “I’ll take that as a yes! No worries though, I’ve been going out ever since I was a teen. Never had trouble, not even a pinch.” He paused, getting no response from Alec except the same old fidgeting and silence.

                “Ya know a lot of people are really scared about stupid things like zombies or ghosts, but I’ve never had anythin’ bother me in all my years! Hell, this whole disappearin’ story doesn’t even bother me. We’re two men, I think if someone tried messin’ with us, we could handle ourselves, eh?”

                “Yes, ya, I’m sure we could,” Alec said, taking a slow, shaky breath.

                “Well, speak a’the devil,” Dave said, pulling into the dark parking lot. “St. Ricord’s Cemetery and Crematorium.” Dave parked the old pickup, the engine shuttering with a sound like mechanical cicadas.  

                “You got the map, bud?”

                “Huh?”

                “The map, Alec, do ya have it? This ain’t no small grave yard, ya know!”

                “Oh! Uh, one sec.” Alec opened up his bag, shuffling through a clearly unorganized pile of papers and gadgets. He pulled out a phone, an old leather wallet, a dirty BIC lighter, and a pack of cigs, muttering things under his breath.

                “Well? We don’t have all night bud, ya got it or no?”

                “Here!” Alec said, flourishing a well folded piece of paper. He quickly unfolded it, floundering with his shaky hands.

                “Where we headin’?” Dave asked. Alec squinted at the paper, pointing his finger here and there. A full minute passed before Alec looked back up.

                “Oh,” he said quietly.

                “Huh?”

                “Uh, here. You see.” Alec handed over the map to Dave. The thing was big, with scrawling in blue ink and small font all over. Clearly titled at the top of the sheet, it said ‘Glade City Cemetery.’

                “Ah, I gotcha. You’re just a dumbass.”

                “Pretty much.” 

Sharing is Caring

Yo, so man its been awhile since I've blogged. However, I have been pretty dang busy since my last blogs. Besides the usual school stuff that is. I've started putting my nose to the grindstone and pumping out some creative writing, one short story and a bit of poetry here and there, so I thought a good way to get back into the swing of things would be to share with y'all a bit of my poetry that I've been working on. I hope you guys enjoy them, if not then feel free to tell me why! Next post will be me sharing my newest short story and seeing what you guys think of that, so until then, peace.

-Ink

Moonlight Garden

(Revised)

The bell-petaled flowers

Were light purple,

Shaded plum under the meadows darkness.

The wind, cold Canadian wind,

Made them move and mutter,

To the tune of trembling violin strings.

His hands played like a spider

Bustling about its web,

Each intricate strand entrancing the shadows.

The air was full of sound,

High, ascending melodies,

Remote, to full for drab roars and patters

As the world turned orange

The song dissipated

Into stillness, rays shining on the grass.

The sun now a cherry

On the shores of Lake Superior.

Icicles

Shining, it hangs in the air with your frosted breath and joyous thoughts,

A frozen angel: pure; delicate; and natural, a wonder to behold.

Its smooth, hilled surface distorting the world around us.

Oblivious, we walk underneath, without a thought

Of what bliss and beauty is above our head.

Until droplets begin to fall to earth

And the air fills with crackles.

Then, we begin to notice,

As it all comes down,

And before we

Know it, it

Shatters.

Then we see a warped weapon of nature,

Dangerous and sharp, cold to touch,

Leaving only shards in its wake.

Yet sunshine comes again

And melts it all away.

As warmth comes

Left in the wake

Is only a mere

Puddle.