Frightening Misdeeds

Chucky knew he was scared. He had no volition to enter the cemetery that night, but his buddies, Jamal and Randall, were bored, plus they'd been drinking. Chucky was a lightweight with more sense in his little finger than both of them together, but he was also a follower, too wimpy to stand up for himself. Their plan - to tag a few headstones then get out of dodge.

The heat that night was unbearable, but they strolled to the cemetery and jumped over the gate. Chucky nervously followed behind, shushing the two jokers along the way. Randall pointed to a stumpy white mausoleum and ran toward it with Jamal giggling on his heels. Together, their spray paint cans spelled out some unintelligible symbols which Chucky found strange.

The hairs on Chucky's neck stood on end like something was behind him. He turned. The door to the mausoleum stood open. Chucky jumped back then yelled,

"Look out!"

He darted from the cemetery, hopping over the fence just as a patrol car drove by. On went it's lights and Chucky halted. Two cops approached him and told him to take a seat on the curb, but Chucky didn't want to be interrogated in front of the cemetery.

"What were you doing in there?"

"I...I was running out. I followed two of my friends in there so they could spray paint some headstones."

"Vandalism, is it?"

"Yes, I guess so, but something happened?"

"Where are your buddies?"

"They came and got them."

"Who came and got them?"

Chucky turned back and pointed. "The dead people. The dead people came out of the mausoleum and pulled them in."

"Are you joking?"

"Look at my hands." He stuck out both hands. They wouldn't stop shaking. "Can you take me away from here?" Chucky asked.