On Halloween night, Ravi and I dared each other to walk through the old cemetery on the hill. The fog was thick, the graves half-swallowed by roots, and the air heavy with decay. I stopped when I saw a name scratched off a tombstone and freshly carved beneath it were the words “I followed them home.” I turned to call Ravi, but his flashlight had gone out. When I found him, something pale and wrong was standing behind him, its hand buried in his shoulder. I ran until I reached the road, gasping, heart pounding. But when I got home and locked the door, I heard slow, wet footsteps in the hall and a whisper from the dark, “I told you not to look back.”
Stake id: poor1337