PART 11

We walked down the central alley in total silence for a little while – the gravel crunching under our feet – then we turned left to walk between the gravestones. The moon was full and the sky was clear, I could see well enough to read the inscriptions (or the epitaphs, to use my mum’s vocabulary) on some of the tombstones:

Looking for a partner to play knucklebones, one of them read.

Last resting place of my ashes: no sneezing, said another a little further away.

I’ll be back in five minutes, a third one added.

Amusing, curious even, but nothing truly intriguing so far. As I have mentioned before, I had a few nocturnal graveyard expeditions with my buddies under my belt. I knew what to expect.

When we stopped near the mausoleum – an odd-looking construction made of stone leaning against the wall – things started to go wrong.

With a hand gesture – his index finger pointed towards the sky, as if he was going to cast a spell – the grave digger ordered me to pay attention. I really wondered where this little game would take us.

I didn’t have to wait for long. The answer appeared brutally.

Among the stones, the grass and the gravel, voices, coming from God-knows-where, seemed to be whispering. I listened, puzzled: not only were they whispering, but they were whispering to me. I naturally thought it was a good joke, a recording on one of those old tapes for example, or even one or two jokers hidden behind the tombs, and I nearly laughed out loud.

I carefully looked around me, ready to call the grave digger out on his prank, but I saw no tape recorder, let alone jokers.

The voices became multiplied and were becoming more noticeable every instant. It was a cacophony of abrupt whispers that sounded like commandments.

A voice behind me was calling. I spun around: nothing.

Another call near my right ear. Another spin around: still nothing.

I spun like a top, now submerged by an avalanche of muffled screams piercing my eardrums. The words jostled around, overlapping each other: … warn them… … she’s been waiting for so long… … I’m cold, I’m so cold… … the light, bring the light… … under the third tomb, do you understand?...

I caught myself shaking my head and, to my own amazement, I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my hands against my ears. I couldn’t believe this was happening. In my painful head, the uncontrollable flow of words became deafening: … please, I’m begging you… … I know you can hear me… … listen, listen to me… … this way, come this way… … look, LOOK BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE…

I couldn't even hear my heart’s crazy beating in my chest anymore. In my confusion, I didn’t find anything better to do than sink to my knees and let out a long strident scream that must have been heard all the way across the village.

(Go to PART 12)