PART 14

I opened my mouth, but to say what? I only managed to stutter a pathetic:

– Pa-pardon?

My companion scowled, clearly indicating something at my feet. I followed his gaze, and realised that I was standing on a grave. Its epitaph jumped out at me:

Get out of here, you’re walking on my tomb.

I jumped aside, and the grave digger laughed silently.

I didn’t see what was funny at all.

For the first time in my life, I was completely baffled by my favourite game. I was in shock. I was drenched in sweat.

As for my companion, he could not have seemed more comfortable. He finally stopped laughing and looked at me for a long time.

– It isn’t over yet, you know, he finally declared. I promised you the dead that talk, but also the dead that walk. I always keep my promises.

I nearly screamed again, a desperate scream that meant: that’s enough, but the grave digger, with a finger on his mouth, ordered me to be quiet. He pointed at the tomb nearest to me. Against reason, I looked. The inscription was scathing:

Don’t scream, we’re trying to sleep here!

I felt my face lose its last traces of colour. I spun around like a disjointed puppet, not knowing if I should stay or go. The tombstones were all around me, circling me like sinister stone mercenaries. My eyes found the mausoleum, and there, right in front of me, I saw what I dreaded seeing, and it made my blood run cold.

The apparition was materialising itself by tearing off shreds of darkness. It had not slipped out into the open through the gates of the mausoleum behind it, enveloped in mist, nor had it come out of the earth with plenty of inarticulate grunts. No, no: the night itself was kneading it into a monstrous creature, a creature that had a vaguely human shape and that was now gliding towards me without a sound.

I looked all around, desperately looking for backup, and my heart stopped beating. There was no sign of Childeric Zac: my grave digger had given me the slip, leaving me to my plight without any scruple!

The apparition continued its inexorable advance. I was stuck in place. When it was close enough, two white eyes opened in the black mass that served as its head, two white eyes without pupils that fixed on mine.

I recoiled, and suddenly got the use of my legs back. I escaped and screamed, running between the tombs – farewell, with no regrets, mausoleums, tombstones and epitaphs of all kinds – faster than I had ever run.

Somewhere in the village, the mournful chime of the church clock struck the hour. It was exactly midnight.

(Go to PART 15)