It was my first date with Shandra.
We’d known each other for a bit already; she was a strange, but likeable girl. Not many people seemed to know her, but I’ve felt oddly attracted to her since before I even knew her. We were both goth, but I was more into the style than the culture.
We agreed to go to the local graveyard (ya know, being edgy teens and all) and hang out just past midnight for a bit. We brought no flashlights, and walked together straight to the center where we relaxed amongst the gravestones. I sat down and she lay in the dewy grass with her hands together under her head.
“Did you bring any food?” I asked, as I’d forgotten any snacks.
“Yeah, I’ve got plenty to eat,” she responded. Oddly enough, she didn’t seem to have anything with her. Guessing it was a sarcastic remark, I continued talking with her.
We told each other short horror stories we’d read online for a couple hours, chatted about the history of the people in the graveyard, and read names on headstones, until I was startled by a timid, frail voice behind me.
“Run, boy…”
I was shocked, terrified to my core for a split second, but snapped back to reality and chuckled, brushing it off.
Shandra turned her head from the night sky to me. “What’s so funny?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh, nothing,” I returned. “I just thought I heard one of these graves talking.”
She looked worried, almost frustrated, for some reason I couldn’t possibly figure.
“What’d it say?”
“‘Run, boy,’” I answered, quietly.
She laughed. “I guess they think you need some exercise.”
“Maybe.” I smiled, attempting a laugh and failing.
We turned our heads to the stars, gazing at their beauty. I looked at her to see her pretty face, but noticed she was terribly pale, even more so than usual.
“Hey, are you feeling alright?” I asked.
“Yeah, I feel great. Why?”
“Nothing. Just wanted to make sure.”
She shrugged and turned back to the sky. Before looking away, I shifted my focus to a grave next to her. I somehow hadn’t noticed it earlier, but it read in large engraved letters:
Here lies Jonathan Grey
2003-2020
An amazing student, friend and son
I knew that kid. He was in my English class, and started flirting with Shandra a couple weeks ago. He’s been absent since the day I last saw him talking to her.
“Go, Before she gets you,” another voice warned.
I jumped in surprise, but didn’t stand up. I looked around with panic to see if any idiot pranksters were nearby, trying to ruin my night.
Shandra sat up. “What’s wrong?” She inquired.
I looked back to her and saw that her skin was even lighter, translucent even, revealing a deep black skeleton beneath it.
“N-nothing,” I stuttered out.
“Come on! Why aren’t you leaving?” I heard.
“He’s afraid of us.”
“He should be afraid of her.”
I tried to ignore the voices, but they wouldn’t stop. They were an infectious worm in my ears. I felt as if I were going insane. I was urged to leave, but something inside me kept telling me to stay. I was determined to have a good night with this girl.
“Go! Get out of here, child! We’ll hold her off.” The voice came from behind her this time. I glanced in that same direction and watched a weathered, rotted arm punch its way out of the ground.
I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. It was gone, and she looked normal as ever. I forced an awkward “Hey,” out of my mouth. “The stars look amazing tonight.”
“So do you, pretty boy.” That was her nickname for me. It made me blush.
I leaned into her, and surprisingly, she did too. My eyes faded shut and I felt her lips touch mine. They felt cold and hard, as though they were made from stone. I opened my eyes for a short moment and saw hers were pale again. I could see the veins in her eyeballs filling with black, through her eyelids. Her lips warmed up, becoming hotter and hotter until they burned my mouth. She grabbed my face painfully tight with both hands, and I lurched away in fear.
“I-I should really get going,” I said, standing up slowly.
“What do you mean?” Her eyes were now black, empty marbles in a wretched, lifeless skull. “The fun hasn’t even begun.”
I quickly looked up and saw a dozen ghostly, decayed bodies standing crippled in the fog. I stood up and anxiously backed away, a look of horror stuck on my face.
“Get back here, pretty boy,” she called. “I’d hate for you to miss out.” Her voice was tearing apart, becoming scratchy and deep.
I ran toward the iron gate, but froze in horror when it slammed shut just ten feet in front of me. I looked back to see her stalking behind, now with no clothes and completely transparent skin, displaying a black but somehow bright and burning skeletal body, similar to those following her, but worse. She emitted a painful light, without illuminating the field. I felt attracted to her once again, and I hated it.
In a stroke of overwhelming fear for my life, I jumped the gate as fast as I could. When I managed to overcome my complete dread, I saw her dashing only a few feet from the sidewalk, zombies chasing behind. A gaping hole opened in the dirt just behind her. What I can only assume were her angry exes collectively grabbed her by the shoulders and erratically dragged her into the ground.
The next day at school, I remembered last night like a bad dream. Thinking of the few events I could recall made a shutter run down my back. Just before class started, I saw Daniel from Algebra 2 chatting her up.
I was too afraid to tell him.
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