Prompt: All the buried bodies of the deceased slowly sink to the center of the earth and form a large monster that emerges once every year. It gets stronger for every body it adds to itself and it hunts those who have disrespect the dead.
The amber glow of the boys’ cigarettes softly illuminated the dewy grass and nearby tombstones. Tommy sat on a Mrs. Grawood, Henry leaned against a pillar of granite that was dedicated to a war hero with a name they couldn’t pronounce, and Mike stood with his foot flat on a tombstone he had just recently knocked over.
“I don’t know why you do that, Mike,” Tommy said to Mike’s, who was standing with his back to them. Tommy took a drag and exhaled smoke through his nose.
Mike blew smoke from his pursed lips. “Because they’re just rocks.”
“But,” Harry said, pointing his cigarette towards Mike, “people pay for them. They’re important.”
Mike whipped around to Harry and Tommy. “And look who’s fucking talking? You both are using them as seats.”
“Yeah but,” Tommy said, “we’re not destroying them. We have at least some respect.” Him and Henry nodded.
“Who cares?” Mike said, turning back around, taking a puff and flicking the ash onto the granite below. “It’s not like they do anyway. Their rich families will just fix it or get them a new one. Ain’t that right,” he moved his foot and leaned down, “Mr. Random? Mr. Random. That’s your name? Sweet Jesus.” He straightened and looked at his friends. “What kind of name is that?” He laughed, the other two joining them.
The ground began to tremble. The pillar Harry stood against rocked back and forth on its stone platform. He quickly moved away from it. Henry hopped off the tombstone before it fell over. Both boys stood near each other, but Mike remained still.
“What the hell is happening?” he asked, glancing around. The trembling eased, eased, stopped. The air was still and as if the graveyard could become quieter, it did. “Well, that was weird—”
An enormous appendage erupted from the grave beneath Mike. The moans and groans and wails of what seemed like millions exploded over the once silent cemetery. The appendage’s tip opened up, blooming like a flower made from numberless oily skeleton arms and ruptured innards, and consumed Mike, who hadn’t had the chance to yell or cry for help.
Henry and Tommy screamed, dropping their cigarettes, and sprinted away as the appendage spiraled into the air, echoing with the pain of thousands, and weaved back into the burrows and hollows of the earth. It still had more to consume, more to devour, adding endlessly to itself until all those who disrespected the deceased were deceased themselves.
Read my previous prompt, “A Demon in Disguise.”
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