The Cemetery

The Fairkin Cemetery would have been the perfect setting for a horror movie. It was old and overgrown, with several spooky mausoleums near the center. Many of the graves dated back several hundred years, before the city itself had even been founded by Eugene Fairkin. Then there were the rumors of disappearances and strange goings on surrounding it. Almost all of the locals could remember stories from before they were born telling them to steer well clear of Fairkin Cemetery.

Tara had recently moved into the neighborhood next to the cemetery. Every morning, she walked past it on her way to her new marketing job at the Fairkin corporation. She didn't know all of the history, but it still gave her chills every time she walked past. Tara was planning on moving to a different neighborhood, a move that should be simple, given the high salary she was now earning at Fairkin. I still can't believe how much I'm going to be making! Tara mused, attempting to distract herself from her surroundings. The sooner I can get away from all these graves, the better!

About ten minutes later, Tara arrived at the Fairkin building. She had only worked there a couple weeks, but she waved to the few people she had managed to meet. She headed to the marketing department where she met London, a slightly bitter, but often hilarious, veteran of ten years in the marketing department.

“Hey new girl, how you doin this morning?” London asked.

“Great! My life would be perfect if I didn't have to walk by that damn creepy cemetery every morning,” Tara answered. “How about you?”

“Curious now, I guess we're about to get an update on Mr. Fairkin's wife this morning,” London said. She was always up to date on the latest gossip in the company. Mrs. Clarissa Fairkin had owned the company in partnership with her husband, Mr. Doug Fairkin since they had married some forty years ago. She had been in poor health for sometime, and employees of the company were curious what would happen to them if she passed.

“Oh, here we go!” Mr. Fairkin appeared on one of the TVs throughout the building as his voice came over the p.a. system.

“Employees of the Fairkin corporation, I wish to borrow a couple moments of your time. Last night, my dear wife Clarissa passed, following her long battle with illness. She will be sorely missed. Now, let's get back to it, we have deadlines to meet people!”

“Well damn!” said London, echoing the thoughts of many of her colleagues.

After leaving work, several of her colleagues had persuaded her to stop at the local watering hole for a couple post work beverages. They entered the cute hipster micro pub, and Tara ordered a Moscow mule. After drinks were ordered, the group took a table on a patio outside. Talk quickly turned to the owner of their business, Mr. Fairkin.

“Doesn't anyone else find it strange?”, asked James.

“The only thing I find strange is that stupid hat you insist on wearing,” quipped Thomas, one of his friends in the legal department, prompting a loud round of laughter.

“Oh, hah-hah. You're just jealous you can't pull it off!” James answered, a little heatedly. “No, but seriously. No one else finds it even the tiniest bit off that Mr. Fairkin doesn't seem the least bit concerned about his wife?”

Tara hadn't been with the company long, but even with the little she knew about the situation, she had found the matter of fact announcement to be just a tad unfeeling. Mr. Fairkin had always seemed to love his wife very much(at least, it was presented that way in their public persona). Many of the employees had been quite surprised that he had shown almost no emotion when he had broken the news that his wife and business partner had passed so suddenly.

“Maybe he's just in some kind of shock,” she proposed, taking a contemplative sip of her mule.

“Oh, who gives a shit? Why are we still talking about work?” an exasperated London asked. “Let's play a game and get drunk!”

After the coworkers had several more drinks, and loudly sang along to several of the more popular songs on the jukebox, they realized that it was considerably later than they all had thought.

“Oh my god! We have to work in the morning!” Tara somewhat slurred.

“Yeah, let's get out of here,” said James.

“Where are Thomas and London?” Tara asked, looking around for her new gal pal. They had said they would watch out for each other with the guys.

“Uh, I think they may be staying a while longer,” replied James, pointing to a dark corner of the patio. Thomas and London were sitting very close with their heads together on an outdoor sofa, oblivious to the rest of the world.

Tara's heart fluttered. She needed to leave, but she had been hoping that London was going to walk home with her. She had had no desire to walk past the cemetery alone, especially not this late. A wave of foreboding swept over her, and she asked James if he would walk home with her.

“I absolutely would, but I live the opposite way. Sorry babe,” he said sincerely.

“It's alright. I know it's childish, but I just really don't want to walk past the cemetery alone at night.”

“What's the worst that could happen? Just be careful, and don't go in,” said James, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Far from reassured, Tara put on her jacket and left the pub alone. She walked towards the cemetery humming one the songs they had sung earlier in the evening to reassure herself. She thought about putting in headphones so she could listen to music to distract herself, but then worried that she wouldn't hear someone trying to sneak up on her.

Tara had lost herself in a moment of personal reflection, which was probably why she hadn't noticed the odd sounds emanating from the supposedly deserted cemetery. A loud crashing sound disturbed her reverie. Feeling instantly more clear-headed and alert, her head turned quickly as she spun around looking for the source of the crash. Tara told herself that she should leave, but her natural curiosity(and her admittedly still rolling buzz) convinced her to execute a cautious search of the area. She crouched low and entered the cemetery, moving quickly between trees and headstones. Behind her, a shadowy figure drifted forward and quietly closed the gate.

Still noticing nothing, Tara moved towards the large mausoleum that was the central focus of the cemetery. The rest of the lot was fairly open, offering little place to hide and nothing that would have made such a loud sound. She moved as close as she dared for the moment to observe the building. The Fairkin Mausoleum was designed to look like a miniature Gothic church, made of gray stone, complete with a large cross on top, and even a gargoyle overlooking the entrance. God, this place is even more terrifying inside! Tara mused. She was so lost in this thought that she almost didn't notice the row of figures marching towards the entrance of the tomb. What the hell? Who would be coming here in the middle of the night like this?And what are they possibly doing? All other thoughts were lost as an arm wrapped around her chest and a rag was pressed to her face before she had time to scream.

She came to slowly. In her hazy state, she heard chanting, pounding, and what sounded like large objects being moved. As her eyes fluttered open, she realized she had been bound upright to a large wooden structure, and all of her clothes had been removed. She was in a dark room lit by candles and torches. In front of her was the body of an older woman in a circle drawn on the stone floor, surrounded by runes. She couldn't turn to look behind her, but she could see the semicircle of robed and hooded figures between her and the exit.

“Ahhh, our sleeper awakens,” one of the masked figures said a calm, cold voice. A familiar voice.

“James?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“I told you not to enter the cemetery, did I not?” he asked in an amused manner. “It isn't safe here at night. Now, the time has come for the final ceremony. Let us delay no longer!”

The chanting resumed, and a figure in a bright blue robe entered, carrying a large dagger. Since he wasn't wearing a mask, Tara was instantly able to recognize him. “Mr. Fairkin, what is happening? Please please please, just let me go, I promise I won't say anything.” Tara sobbed. He approached her, and gently caressed her face.

“Ah, you poor, sweet beautiful creature. You have dreadful timing. I knew that Clarissa's time was running short, then lo and behold, you, a perfect candidate, comes in looking for a job.” He paused, glancing at what Tara was now certain was his dead wife. “Did you not find it strange, how easy your application process was? How much money we offered you, despite a complete lack of any serious credentials? In most times, we would have just sent you on your way. But, my dear Clarissa wasn't long for this world, and we needed a sacrificial vessel to provide blood for this ceremony. And now, your time has run out.” Fairkin raised the knife in front of her.

“NOOOOOO-” the cry cut off abruptly, overwhelmed by chanting.

Several months later

London and Thomas sat at the pub, having a couple post work drinks.

“If he was going to marry someone 50 years younger, why couldn't it have been me? I'd love to have a sugar daddy buy me a new car and some nice jewelry!” London pouted.

“Not like it lasted very long, he kicked the bucket himself just a couple weeks later!” Thomas replied, having a sip of his drink. “Still can't believe they never found that poor girl. What was her name? Tina?”

“Tara? This one?” asked Reggie, a new hire they had invited along for the night. He was pointing at a missing person poster with Tara's smiling face on it, advertising a reward for information about her whereabouts.

“That's the one! We barely knew her, but she went missing after having drinks with us here a little while back” answered James. “So crazy. I told her to be careful around the cemetery. You should do the same, there's bad elements around there, I guess. “

Reggie shook his head, turning back to his drink. James smirked at his back before taking a sip of his drink. Why did they have to go so close together this time? Gonna be another long night.