It was nearing midnight, and the rain was relentless. Heavy raindrops tapped against Lisa's bedroom window like impatient fingers, as if urging her to hurry. The storm had arrived out of nowhere, but instead of being deterred, Lisa felt more determined than ever. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and grabbed her bag of supplies.
This is it, she thought. The thrill of what she was about to do mixed with a nervous energy that sent shivers through her. Tonight, she wasn't just playing around. This was real.
She threw on her black hoodie and, with one last glance at the flickering candles on her desk, snuck out of her room and down the stairs as quietly as possible. Each creak in the floorboards made her heart race faster, but no one stirred. She slipped out the front door, feeling the cool, damp night air on her face.
The cemetery was a short walk away, nestled behind the old, abandoned church. In the dark, the headstones looked like jagged teeth, rising up from the earth. As she approached the gate, lightning lit up the sky, casting long, eerie shadows over the graves. Lisa pulled her hood tighter and moved quickly toward the unmarked grave she'd chosen for the ritual.
When she finally reached it, she took a moment to catch her breath. The grave was plain, just a mound of dirt with no headstone, hidden away in a corner where few people ventured. It was the perfect spot—no one would bother her here.
She set down her bag and carefully laid out her supplies: candles, a bundle of sage, a small silver knife, and the dirt she'd taken from her backyard, thinking it might "connect" her energy to the ritual.
The rain continued, heavy and unrelenting, but she didn't mind. She lit the candles, huddling over them to shield them from the wind. They flickered stubbornly, tiny beacons in the darkness.
She began to mutter the words she'd memorized, her voice trembling but steady. At first, it felt silly, like she was just some kid playing pretend. But as the words filled the space around her, something changed. The air grew thicker, the sounds of the storm fading as if someone had turned down the volume on the world.
A strange stillness settled over the grave, and Lisa felt an unsettling chill creep up her spine. She paused, her hands shaking slightly. What am I doing? she thought. But something deep inside urged her to keep going. She took a shaky breath and resumed, louder this time, her words cutting through the night.
Just as she reached the final lines, thunder crashed, and a sudden gust of wind extinguished her candles. She gasped, looking around in the darkness, her heart pounding. She could barely see anything, just shadows and the faint outline of the grave before her.
"Hello…?" she whispered, half-expecting someone—or something—to respond. But there was only silence. She felt ridiculous, standing there in the rain, soaked to the bone, talking to an empty grave.
But then… she heard it. A faint whisper, so soft she almost thought she imagined it.
"Lisa…"
Her breath caught in her throat. She spun around, searching the darkness, but saw no one. The whisper had sounded distant, like it was coming from somewhere below her, beneath the ground. Her hands trembled as she clutched her bag, a mixture of fear and excitement churning in her stomach.
"Is… is someone there?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the rain.
Another faint whisper, clearer this time. "Lisa…"
It was unmistakable. Someone—or something—was calling her name.
Her heart pounded as she took a hesitant step back. Maybe Emily was right, she thought, panic starting to creep in. Maybe this was a terrible idea.
But just as she was about to turn and leave, she saw a faint glow emanating from the grave. It was subtle, barely visible, but it pulsed softly, like a heartbeat. Lisa's eyes widened in wonder, the fear momentarily forgotten as she stared at the light.
Drawn by an inexplicable pull, she knelt down, reaching out toward the glow. Her fingers brushed the surface of the damp earth, and a strange warmth spread through her hand, tingling up her arm.
Suddenly, she felt something cold and solid beneath her fingertips, as if something buried was pushing up toward her touch. She gasped, pulling her hand back in shock. The glow faded for a moment, but then returned, brighter this time.
Her pulse quickened, curiosity overpowering her fear. What if this actually works? she thought. What if I really did something…?
Summoning her courage, she placed both hands on the ground, pressing her palms firmly against the damp soil. The light pulsed again, and she felt the cold object shift beneath her hands, as if it was responding to her touch.
She held her breath, anticipation and terror mingling in her chest, as she whispered, "If you're there… show me."
The glow intensified, illuminating the ground in a soft, eerie light. The soil began to shift, tiny particles rising up like dust caught in a beam of light. Lisa's heart raced, a mixture of awe and horror filling her as the earth seemed to pulse beneath her hands.
And then, slowly, something started to emerge from the ground. A hand—skeletal and pale, fingers thin and bony, like the roots of a dead tree—pushed up through the soil, clawing its way to the surface. Lisa's eyes widened in terror and fascination as the hand reached toward her, its fingers stretching as if beckoning her closer.
She stumbled backward, her breath hitching, unable to tear her gaze away. What have I done?
The hand continued to rise, the arm following, inch by inch, until the figure began to take form. A skull appeared, hollow eyes staring up at her, dark and empty. But just as she thought she would scream, something strange happened—the skull's mouth twisted into a crooked smile, almost… familiar.
Lisa's heart skipped a beat. There was something about that smile, something that reminded her of… him. Liam.
The realization hit her like a punch to the gut. Was it possible? Had she really…?
Her thoughts were interrupted as the figure lurched forward, dragging itself closer to her. She stumbled back, her pulse thundering in her ears, torn between the urge to run and the inexplicable draw to stay.
And then, with one last heave, the figure collapsed forward, just inches away from her, its hollow eyes staring up, empty yet somehow aware. The smile remained, chilling yet strangely… comforting.
Before she could react, the figure's hand shot out, gripping her ankle with an icy, vice-like grip. Lisa froze, her breath caught in her throat, too terrified to scream as she looked down, meeting those dark, empty eyes.
"Lisa…" the figure whispered, its voice a raspy echo that sent chills down her spine.
She wanted to pull away, to scream, to run… but she couldn't move. She was trapped, caught in the dead gaze of the thing she had brought to life.