Page 54 of Grave Humor

The dead rose from the niches within, and the skeletons strode towards the entrance. Unlike the movies I’d seen, they moved with grace and dignity, marching with their grave goods clutched in their bony hands.

“I would make way for them, Anwen,” the devil said. He pointed to an unmarked grave. “No one rests there, and it should be safe enough there.”

I relocated to that spot in the hopes I might escape without touching any more corpses for the rest of the night.

The devil laughed at me.

“You suck,” I told him.

“You’re almost as delightful as my daughter. Also, your plan to invoke my name in creative ways to piss me off, summon me, and set me loose on that fool? That’s almost as good as my daughter wanting to misspell my name in glitter to make me show up at her whim. It would have worked. This is better. It sets the wheels of fate in motion, and it defines some futures that were, until now, uncertain. Watch closely, Anwen. Humans never learn.”

When the first of the corpses clawed free of the ground and the skeletons poured from the catacombs, I understood why Eoghan disliked screams.

Director Hammel’s took on a rather shrill quality. None of the dead bothered to hurry, although they didn’t shamble like so many movies claimed. They walked with a purpose, shedding dirt, decaying flesh, and rotten clothes as they went. They remained silent while the director continued to waste precious air with his screams.

The devil stood with me, and as though bored with the whole thing, my dog wandered off.

I wasn’t brave enough to dodge through the horde of the dead to follow him. Gordon shrugged and trailed after the animal.

The dead avoided both, opting to focus their attention on their prey.

Azrael sat on a nearby tombstone and patted it. “This is the grave of the woman he desires. I peeked.”

Like the other graves, the soil was disturbed. “I guess it’s a good thing he won’t really be able to tell which one she is, isn’t it?”

“It would serve him right, but you are right. There is no way for him to know which corpse is hers.”

Director Hammel fled from the undead, and Azrael lifted his perfect hand and snapped his fingers. A shimmering dome of green and gold snapped into place over the cemetery. “There. That’ll keep things contained until his very soul remembers why he should leave the dead to their rest. It wouldn’t do to wake all the humans for this nonsense.”

“I don’t know, those assholes all knew Old Man McGregor’s wife killed him, and they don’t even care,” I grumbled.

The devil stretched his wings, rolled his shoulders, and after a few moments, he shrugged. “Your call, Azrael.”

“This matter is best kept contained. The souls I called upon are mischievous in nature.”

“And the woman’s soul?” the devil asked.

“You could look for yourself.”

“It’s best if Anwen hears it from you, who is a facet of death. I will peek into her future if you gaze upon her current fate.”

Azrael relaxed. “You already looked upon her soul, haven’t you?”

“I am a most curious being.”

I shook my head at the devil’s antics.

“The woman has been reborn to a new body. She is but a child now, and she lives in a happy home. Her mother reads to her while she is safely tucked into her warm bed. Her father will read to her next until she finally sleeps. She has a cold, which heals, but she is having trouble sleeping right now.”

I smiled at that. “That sounds sweet.”

“She will be rewarded in her new life, for the universe has ways of repaying its debts,” the devil said. “He will not disturb her again—nor will he cross paths with her in any of her futures.” With a rather malevolent grin, he added, “I will be making certain of that. I plan to have great fun with him when it is time for him to make his appearance at my gates.”

“What will become of him?”

“You’ll see,” the devil promised. “For now, have a seat and watch. I’d say you won’t get to see something like this ever again, but you do live in Sunset, Alabama. You haven’t seen anything yet.”

The dead played a game of chase with Director Hammel, who scrambled to keep away from them. He stopped screaming, figuring out he needed to spare his breath if he wanted to avoid capture. Every time he tripped over a hole in the ground or stumbled into a gravestone, the dead toyed with him.