by Alex Morgan
Pauline wrapped her arms around her tighter in an effort to keep warm. “How long do we have to stay out here for your stupid fraternity initiation ritual?” she asked Bob. The night chilled the graveyard and the monolith they leaned against was even colder and hard. His arm over her shoulders provided little comfort.
Pauline gasped and grabbed Bob’s arm. “Over there! I saw something move.” She pointed to a large tombstone that appeared grey in the dark cemetery.
“It’s just your imagination, so relax” he replied with irritation in his voice.
She glanced back up at the granite figure of an angel carved into the stone. It reached with arms outstretched and a benevolent smile as if to welcome the dearly departed back home. However angelic it was meant to be, Pauline’s blood ran cold at the sight of it. In the light of day, it was probably very serene and comforting, but in the dark, it looked nothing of the sort.
“Just until dawn,” Bob replied as if that even was a few minutes away. Pauline checked her wristwatch in an instinctive move. It was too dark to see but she figured it was only midnight.
Great. Only six hours to go, she thought with growing unease inside her. How did I let myself get talked into this? I could be back in my room studying for Monday’s chemistry test, which I’ll probably flunk now.
“Legend has it that whoever spends the night next to this gravesite will be found the next morning, dead and lying in the arms of that angel.” Bob said, snapping her out of her thoughts. He jerked a thumb in its direction but didn’t look up as if afraid to lock eyes with it. “What a load of crap.”
Pauline responded but without much conviction. “I thought the legend only applied to children out here. The angel is said to protect them by taking them to heaven. My question is protecting them from what?”
He shrugged. “That’s why we don’t have anything to worry about.” Bob said. “We’re not children any more.” He squeezed her tighter.
“Have any of your fraternity brothers actually known anyone who died out here?” She made no effort to hide the disdain in her voice.
“I doubt it. That’s why they make this part of the initiation. To see who isn’t scared by some stupid legend. Come on, let’s make out while we’re waiting.” He leaned over to plant a kiss on her lips, but a faint noise above them stopped him. They looked up at the direction of the sound.
“What was that?” Pauline gasped.
“I don’t know,” Bob responded. “I don’t see anything.” His voice had dropped to a whisper. After a few seconds, the sound didn’t repeat. Pauline realized she was holding her breath and let out a loud sigh of relief.
“Are you scared?” Bob’s smile taunted her.
She glanced at him just long enough to give him a scowl and then looked back at the angel. “Wait a minute,” she said. “The angel’s hands have changed.”
Bob craned his neck to see. “You’re imagining things.” He tried to pull her close to him but she pushed away.
“I am not!” She pointed up. “The hands were facing up. Now they’re palms down. And it’s eyes are looking at us. Before, they were staring out into the cemetery.”
“Will you stop it?” Bob snapped. “It’s all in your mind. Just calm down.”
Pauline did not believe she was hallucinating but allowed him to pull her close to him. Angry that Bob had dismissed her concerns so leisurely, Pauline decided against saying anything more. Fury replaced her fear and gave rise to thoughts reconsidering her relationship with him. If he was so cavalier about something as mundane as this, what would he do if it were something really important?
Another sound, louder than the first, interrupted her thoughts. She looked up in surprise. The angel’s benevolent smile was replaced by a maniacal sneer. The fingers, once delicate and welcoming, were now hooked into claws as it reached down. A scream died in Pauline’s throat as it grabbed her in a cold iron grip.
Word Count: 700
Alex Morgan is a published author of Gay Erotica who is multifaceted as he's adept at writing horror and comedy, not to mention numerous articles to his credit.
You may read more by this talented author here.
© Copyright Alex Morgan 2011. All rights reserved.
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