Lisa stared down in horror as the skeletal hand gripped her ankle, cold and firm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fought the urge to scream. Her gaze remained locked with the hollow eyes of the figure before her, and she was trapped in a mix of terror and awe. Was this really happening? Could Liam truly be…?
Before she could process the thought, a sudden gust of wind surged through the graveyard, whipping her hair across her face and extinguishing what was left of her candles. The world went pitch black, save for the flickering glow of a distant streetlight at the cemetery's edge. Her grip tightened on her bag, her pulse racing as her instincts screamed for her to run.
The wind howled louder, carrying with it the sound of whispers—faint, echoing, and strange. They seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, weaving in and out of the darkness like secrets begging to be heard.
"Lisa…" Her name drifted through the air, more distinct this time, as if spoken just beside her ear. She spun around, her breath catching as her eyes darted over the shadows, but there was no one there. Only gravestones and the dark, wet earth stretching out around her.
"Hello?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the storm.
Another whisper, closer now. "Stay…" The word sent chills through her, but she couldn't tell if it was a warning… or a plea.
The streetlight flickered violently, casting eerie shadows across the graves. In the brief flashes of light, she thought she saw figures moving, silhouettes shifting in the corners of her vision. But every time she turned her head, they vanished, leaving her more unnerved.
Lisa felt an overwhelming presence settle over her, a weight pressing down on her chest that made it hard to breathe. She was surrounded by the feeling of being watched, as if countless eyes were hidden in the darkness, silently observing her every move.
Just then, the grip on her ankle tightened, jolting her out of her trance. She looked down, her pulse spiking as the skeletal hand pulled her a fraction closer. She stumbled, trying to pull her leg free, but it was like the hand was rooted in the earth itself, unyielding and relentless.
"Let go!" she gasped, yanking harder.
The whispers grew louder, overlapping and intertwining into a low, haunting hum that filled her ears. The sound was maddening, like voices she could almost understand but not quite, a language just out of reach.
And then, through the cacophony, she heard a voice that was unmistakable. Familiar. Soft, but clear.
"Lisa… don't leave me."
Her breath caught, and a surge of emotions crashed over her. The voice was unmistakable—Liam. But how? She'd known him as the quiet boy in class, the one with the lopsided smile and the nervous laugh. And now… here he was, somehow drawn back to her, lingering in the in-between.
"I'm here," she whispered back, her voice trembling. "I'm here, Liam."
The whispers seemed to soften, as if the presence around her was easing its grip. She felt the hand at her ankle loosen slightly, though it still held her with a ghostly touch. Her heart ached, a mix of longing and fear.
But then, as quickly as it had softened, the storm seemed to swell again. The whispers grew frantic, a desperate, tangled rush of voices pleading and warning. The streetlight buzzed and flickered, casting strange shadows that danced and twisted across the graveyard.
In that moment, the ground beneath her seemed to shift. A crack appeared along the soil of the unmarked grave, and from it rose a thick, swirling mist that wrapped around her like icy fingers. She shivered, her mind racing with half-formed thoughts, warnings she should have heeded but couldn't bring herself to care about now.
Just then, a faint glow appeared beside her, illuminating the mist. She turned, heart hammering, to see the outline of a figure—a figure that seemed impossibly familiar. It was Liam, or some spectral echo of him, his face pale and his eyes hollow, yet unmistakably him. He looked at her with a sorrowful expression, one that tugged at her heart despite the fear clawing at her insides.
"Liam…" she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
"Why did you come back?" he asked, his voice carrying a weight of sadness that felt almost tangible.
"I… I don't know," she admitted, the words slipping out before she could think. "I thought… maybe I could bring you back."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn't quite reach his hollow eyes. "Some things… are better left buried, Lisa."
Her pulse quickened as his words settled over her. The wind whipped through the cemetery, pulling at her hair and clothes, and the whispers grew louder, rising into a chorus of desperate warnings.
"I couldn't just let you go," she said, her voice trembling. "I thought… I thought I could make things right."
Liam's gaze softened, and he reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against hers. She felt a strange warmth at his touch, a fleeting connection that filled her with both longing and dread. But then, his face twisted with pain, and he pulled away, as if something invisible was dragging him back into the darkness.
"Lisa, you have to let me go," he said, his voice strained.
Before she could respond, the streetlight flickered again, and a surge of shadows erupted from the cracked earth. They twisted and writhed, reaching out with ghostly hands that clawed at the air, closing in around her. The presence she'd felt before grew heavier, oppressive, suffocating.
And then, just as she thought she couldn't take it any longer, Liam's voice cut through the chaos, clear and urgent.
"Run, Lisa! Before it's too late!"
Her heart pounded, her instincts screaming at her to flee, but she hesitated, torn between the desire to hold onto him and the terror of what was happening around her.
The shadows loomed closer, their whispers rising into a frenzied chant that seemed to vibrate through her bones. She felt the icy grip of ghostly hands reaching for her, brushing against her skin like a bitter wind.
And then, in one final, desperate surge of courage, she turned and ran. She stumbled over the uneven ground, her breath ragged, as she raced toward the cemetery gate. The whispers followed her, a haunting chorus that seemed to echo in her mind long after she'd left the graveyard behind.