What strange twist of fate has brought you back here? A number of years ago you recall playing here as a child. All the children played at the graveyard. Until that night. The night she fell.
They had all run home when they should have stayed. No-one had tried to help her and she had never been seen again. They had made a pact to never speak of it, never tell a living soul what they had done. And now where were they?
The air is thick with fog. The wind almost seems to be howling your name. Is it your imagination, or is there a shape in the fog? A streetlight flickers and the image vanishes but you feel no less uneasy. You feel that you shouldn’t be here anymore.
Then, out of the mist, a silhouette appears. Your heart nearly stops and your tongue chokes when you recognise her, after all those years. Rotted, withered, ethereal but unmistakable. It’s the girl you left to die.