Standing in front of the rusty gate, I was starting to question whether we should be doing this. I had obviously been pretty messed up when I wrote the letters. Had I just made up numbers, and it just so happened to be the coordinates to the cemetery? And what about that symbol? What did it mean? The fence that surrounded the cemetery was as old as the cemetery itself. Running my hand along the top of it, I felt the weathered texture of the metal. Turning around, I walked over to where Sammy and Maggie were standing. “Let’s get this over with,” Maggie groaned. We walked past the gate into the cemetery.
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Looking around, memories flooded my mind. Memories that hadn’t resurfaced for a long time. Memories of my parents. I could still see my mom's smile. I could still hear my dad’s hearty laugh. I walked down the gravel path towards the center of the cemetery, where a large tree was stretching to the sky. The tree was old and gray. No one alive today saw it as a young sapling. Reaching the tree, I looked at the small brass plaque attached to its trunk. It read,
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To whoever needs it,
All is not lost. Your journey is yours alone, but your story is one that should be shared. Never underestimate the power of resilience. Never underestimate your ability to grow. You do not get to choose at what moment your life starts. The moment chooses you.
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I’d read the plaque every time I visited my parents. If someone asked me to recite what it said, I could. The depth of the message never hit me as much as it did now. Apparently, the moment that chose me was when the demons came back. But that got me thinking. Maybe what we’d seen in the woods was just a fluke. Maybe it was just a single demon. Maybe it was just… a trial run. “Elias. I think we found something.” Sammy’s voice drew me out of my thoughts. I walked over to where he was standing. Maggie was crouched next to a tombstone. At the top, was a symbol. Removing the second letter from my pocket, I compared the two. They were identical. Even the small curve on one side of one triangle was on both. That wasn’t a coincidence. I read the stone aloud. “Damien Hale. Son and friend.”
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I’d never heard of this person before, but he must have some significance. Maggie showed me her phone screen. She’d pulled up a news article from over 100 years ago. The headline was in big, bold letters. REAPER SIGHTING! ONE LEFT DEAD! I scrolled through the article. Damien had been killed by a demon in the woods after his friend turned out to be this thing called ‘Reaper’. From what I read, Reaper was just another demon, but stronger than the rest of them. Reaper was their leader. People would go out at night to catch the demons by circling them in groups of three or more. When you caught a demon, you would get a tattoo-like stripe on the inside of your left forearm. When you had four stripes, you could try to catch Reaper. It improved your social status, in a way, to have stripes. People showed you more respect if you’d caught more demons. People who caught Reaper were treated better than most others. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but I tried to understand it.
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When Maggie put her phone away, I asked, “Do you think it’s happening again? Is ‘catching’ going to no longer be a part of the past?” Maggie shrugged. “I guess. Last night, after I got home, I sent a message to one of my old history teachers. He said that we could meet with him if we needed more questions answered.”
“Yes, that's perfect! How soon can we meet with him?” After a moment of tapping her phone screen, Maggie said, “10 minutes at this place called H&C Bakery. It’s on Boulevard.” I nodded. I knew the place. It’s where I would go on my runs. We left the cemetery, but not before I snapped a picture of the message on the plaque. I jogged to catch up to Maggie and Sammy. As I stepped onto the road, I felt eyes on the back of my head. Turning around, I saw nothing. I continued to walk, but couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched228Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbYZaBPMDnw
