Below the Graveyard Doors story

Upon entering the dilapidated cemetery gates, a shiver went down my back. The old, rusted hinges gave a protesting creak as if to tell me to go back. However, I had to visit it for myself—my great-grandmother Elizabeth's last resting place.

The aged headstones were shadowed by the moon in a way that gave the impression that the dead were stirring in their tombs. Even in the searing summer heat, I shivered. My footsteps resounded in the quiet, taking me farther into the graveyard.

My flashlight suddenly died due to a wind gust, leaving me in the dark. With a beating heart, I froze. It was then that I noticed a dim light flickering from underneath the surface.

My curiosity overcame me, and I started to investigate. It felt like the earth had just been turned over; it was yielding and soft. When my shovel struck a wooden object, I could reveal a little, elaborate box.

A musty smell wafted out as I opened it, whispering, "Get out while you still can." I tried to ignore the unsettling feeling, telling myself it was just the wind, but as it got louder and more urgent, I saw Elizabeth standing in front of me, her eyes black as coal, her hand bony, and a chill went down my spine. Her voice was like a rusty gate, hissing, "Why did you come here?" I tried to run, but my feet were stuck, and Elizabeth's grip tightened, pulling me down into the darkness beneath the cemetery gates.