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Haunted Graveyard---FICTION...short story

Hi everyone!!! I'm in the midst of a short story, and was hoping to share it with you all for your opinions. At the moment, it could be considered ended with a cliffhanger, or I could go on with it. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a writer, which is why I was working on this. Please, give me your opinions, critiques whether they be good or bad, I can take criticism and your comments can only help me improve it should it need to be.....THANKS!!

Haunted Graveyard

Halloween Night. The one night out of the whole year when the dead walk among the living and lurk behind every graveyard stone. They walk undetected, unnoticed, and unafraid. Nothing and no one can hurt them on Halloween Night, or so it has been told over the centuries of our existence. If you are a mere human, being in the vicinity or anywhere near a cemetery is something you don't want to do, especially not alone. At least that's what Jordyn had been told all of her years growing up. Stories of strange events, murders, myths, legends, and the like could be heard around town. But, what Jordyn didn't realize, was that her years of not believing were about to end tonight. She was about to be part of a new breed of Urban Legends. One that will make her a believer--if she survives.

The children were tucked snugly in their beds after a long night of trick-or-treating around town with bags on top of bags loaded with candy and chips. It was time for Jordyn Castle to head home from the orphanage she volunteered at. Her work here was complete. The children's candies were all checked for potential poisons and sharp objects then separated between the younger children and the older ones. Not to mention the handful of chocolate candy bars she had tucked into her jacket that she always received from the kids after the night was over.

Walking down the hall toward the exit, Jordyn reached into the pocket of her jacket, brushing her fingers across the tiny candy bars, smiling that the kids cared so much for her that they'd willingly give up their chocolate to show their affection. What better way to show your loved ones you care then by presenting them the gift of chocolate?

All in all they had a great night that seemed to end way too soon. It was just after 11:30pm when she checked the children in their bunks one last time before heading home for a good night's sleep. Everyone was fast asleep, not a peep to be heard. Smiling, she headed back down the hallway to take her leave.

"Goodnight Sister Louise, I'll see you tomorrow night. Happy Halloween, don't let the bed bugs bite." She said with a wave the chubby-faced nun's way. Sister Louise had worked at the orphanage now for almost 15years. Throughout the years, children had come and gone but Louise had always been there. The kids took to her like they would a grandmother figure. With the utmost respect, and no one ever crossed her. Sister Louise had won Jordyn's respect long ago when she had first come to Apple Creek, and respected her and loved her more every year that passed.

"Bye darling! You be careful out there, you know what night it is, what could be lurking on every street corner, and I'll see you tomorrow night." Referring to the legends that surrounded their peaceful town, Sister Louise waved in return.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she headed east down Jasper Street away from the orphanage. Jordyn herself had grown up at Apple Creek Orphanage after her parents were killed in a drunk driving accident when she was six years old. From then on, she had stayed at Apple Creek with Sister Louise and the rest of the nuns. Deciding that when she turned 21 she would make a life for herself, and moved out of state for a few years only to find that she was homesick and wanted to go back to Michigan. Now, at 34, she lived a little over a mile away from her second home, and had no plans to move anywhere else.

The brisk October breeze tore through her windbreaker and jeans like a whip slicing through delicate flesh. Chilled to the bone already, Jordyn mentally scolded herself for walking the mile to the orphanage instead of driving. If she had driven, she wouldn't be considering walking the long way or taking a short cut through the old cemetery of local legend.

The stories surrounding the graveyard were plentiful. Some dated as far back as the early 1900's when the town was first developed. Passing decades had found the stories changing dramatically. Each narration was told with either more characters, more blood, or more twists and turns, all depending on who told the story. Most of the time the tales were good for laugh or small scare, and Jordyn did enjoy the different aspects that were created for each. But did she really believe them? Not a chance.

Jordyn reached the gates of the Apple Creek Cemetery about ten minutes after leaving the orphanage. The wind had started to pick up as she reached the iron gate entrance. [i]Coincidence, nothing unnatural going on here.[/i] Jordyn told herself shaking her head in awe at where her imagination was about to take her. Looking around one time, she reached for the gate of the silent cemetery. Pushing the gate open, it emitted a loud shriek that echoed in the wind and through the cemetery, making the hair on her neck stand on end. With a heavy sigh, Jordyn pushed the gate the rest of the way open.

Letting the gate close behind her, Jordyn surveyed her surroundings at the old cemetery. The place of lore didn't look much different than it had when she was younger. A few more headstones had been erected and it had been widened some, but that was about it. Pulling her flashlight out of her pocket, she turned it on and aimed at various places around the graveyard. [i]Nope, nothing lurking here that can be seen by the human eye[/i]. She chuckled, thinking about all the stories surrounding the peaceful place.

A moment later the wind picked up inside the cemetery blowing dead leaves around her feet and sending a cold chill down the back of her windbreaker. Glancing around Jordyn felt a certain heaviness. The air around her had suddenly become heavy with sadness, or even danger, but she couldn't be sure. She brushed it off as her overactive imagination of being alone in a cemetery near midnight, but she couldn't brush off the fog that had emerged from the darkness hovering above the three crypts inside the graveyard.

A moment later the wind suddenly died, but the fog remained and seemed to get denser as the moments passed.

Jordyn paused for a moment before shining her flashlight in the direction of the fog above the first crypt. Looking behind her back out into the street, she noticed the fog was only inside the cemetery. [i]Okay, now that is really weird.[/i] She thought to herself as she stared dumbfounded at the crypt. Tendrils of fog pointed in her direction, drawing her to the crypt. Strangely enough, her feet started to move of their own volition.

A moment later, she found herself standing in front of the old crypt, shining her flashlight at the words, Jordyn realized she has just made a big mistake. Engraved in the marble was her worst nightmare, "J. Castle November 1, 1970-October 31, 2005." Dropping her flashlight with a gasp, she stared in horror at the words, her entire body going numb with fear. She tried to run, to get away and never come back. She should have listened, she should have believed. Now, it was too late. Her feet were planted stiffly on the ground, she couldn't move.

Skeletal fingers of fog wrapped around her legs, pulling her forward as the stone door to the crypt slid opened, her heart pounding in her ears, she could only stand there screaming and begging.

"No, no, no! There must be some mistake! I'm not dead, I'm standing right here." Tears streamed down her face as she tried to struggle against the invisible force that was pulling her forward. Every muscle in her body felt like jell-O, she screamed in terror being forced into the crypt that was to be her last resting place.

"Oh God no, please God no!" Her screams were silenced as the door to the crypt slid shut behind, thrusting her into darkness she couldn't escape.