The freezing cold breeze rushes past, cracking the
inner of your bones. The grisly black earth teemed with the scent of death. The
pitch-black sky looms above like a black hole, ready to suck in everything in
its path. The dead tree trunks crackle menacingly, and the lumpy tree barks
waved like demon’s finger in the wind.
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| I got it here |
The ominous earth gives way to copious slabs of
stone. Some of them are made from smooth, polished marbles. Others are not as ornamental,
made from rugged, gray-ish black stone. But both of them share one
characteristic. They contains ornately written inscription of the long dead commemorative
plaque’s owner information. The inscription enlists the plaque’s owner name,
birth year, death year, and a brief description of them when they were still
alive or what they are remembered for. Multitudes of the plaques are already
worn out by time. Rock brittles broke off, the engrave are so worn out that it
is illegible, and mosses or other kinds of plants grew on the plaque.
As the tumultuous clouds parted, the silver lunar
gradually lights up the gloomy night sky. The lunar’s beam shine through the
entirety of the area. Its beam reaches even the darkest cracks and crevices,
and visibility became significantly clearer than before. The lone cemetery is
not very large in size. It is surrounded on all four sides by black iron
fences, with two polished metal gates marking the entrance and the exit. To the
eastern end of the area stood a church. Some of the melody escaped into the cemetery
and lingers the area, as if a lullaby to the dead. On the northern and southern
end of the cemetery is the villagers’ residential area. The time is late, so all
of the lights are off and the villagers to sleep. The only sound in the area is
the cold night breeze blowing against the brick roofs. Finally, to the west,
are the wild forests. The strident wolf howl echoes through the night, chilling
everyone who heard it.
The pacific nature did not continue for long. The black metal gates clang open creakily. A tall black
figure hurriedly walks into the graveyard, his leather shoes scrunching the
dried leaves on the ground. He usually walks with assertive steps, but he can't control his emotions too much today. He was a man in his 20s and wears a stylish black
business suit. He has a handsome face, with black eyes that gleams like topaz
and straight black hair. His destination is a grave in the center of the
cemetery that looks distinct than the others. The grave’s plaque is made from
accurately cut black marble, and its surface is richly polished. At the instant
that the man finally reaches the grave, he stares at the plaque with a mix of
emotions, grief, confusion, and disbelieve. The sight affect him greatly, a rose bouquet and small ring
box in his hand fell to the ground. Tears trickle down his cheeks as the man
stood there silently in the lonely graveyard, never satiated.
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