“The dead are coming out of the ground again,” the man said to his fellow worker.
“Yep,” is all the other man would say.
“I reckon it’s the end of days, what with the dead fleeing their final resting place,” the first man commented.
The other man made a noise.
“What’s that?” the man asked.
“I said, what a bunch of bull! It ain’t the end of days! This is just frost heaving, that’s what!” the other man said.
“Frost heaving? We ain’t had frost for four months! This ain’t frost heaving,” the man huffed. “Frost heaving! Of all the idiot ideas…”
The boy watched them from atop of his grave. He was joined by another spirit, about the same age in appearance but centuries younger than he.
“We need to leave,” the ghost boy’s voice came like the rustling of dry leaves.
“Oh? Why? Because of the Granger? I heard he won’t bother with us, just the living and the newly dead,” the boy replied. He lifted his eyebrow upward. “You and I are neither living, nor newly dead.”
“Yes, but why chance it? Let’s get while the getting is good,” the other ghost replied.
The boy turned his gaze back to the living men, trying as best they could to re-bury the hands and other parts of the dead that had made it to the surface.
“Nah, I think I’ll stick around and see what happens,” the boy returned his gaze to the living. He floated near the grave they were working at.
“Did you just hear something?” one of the men asked, a spooked look on his face.
“No! Of course I didn’t hear anything! Who’s around to say anything? Come on, let’s get this mess fixed,” the other man grumbled.
The boy leaned over the grave. He too could hear something. Deep down, he heard the corpse speaking. He let himself sink further into the ground. He slowed, hovering just above the shattered coffin lid and stared into the rotting eyes of an old man.
“What is it that you are saying, elder?” the boy asked.
“My granddaughter! Protect my granddaughter! I didn’t mean to leave her. Now she has no one and the Granger! The Granger is coming!”
“Calm, elder, calm,” the boy extended his arms and made a gesture that calmed the corpse.
“I worry the Granger will harvest her. I am newly dead and she is grieving. She is living with strangers and does not have the protection of family. Please! Guardian, please! Protect her!” the old corpse shook as he spoke.
The boy, the Guardian, sat back on his haunches. “What you ask is difficult.”
“But not impossible for the Guardian of the graveyard,” the pleading in the man’s voice tugged at the boy.
“I shall see what can be done. No promises though,” the Guardian replied. Having been blessed with the honor of Guardian centuries prior, the boy took his duties seriously, even though his duties were few: protect the dead and those that cared for the dead.
“She visits my grave every day after school,” the old man pleaded. “Please, Guardian, please!”
The Guardian nodded his head and then ascended through the loamy dirt. He hung around his own tomb,waiting for the girl. He flicked off dirt from the now unreadable writing. Time and weather had claimed his epitaph. His head shot up as he noticed a girl approaching the old man’s grave. He glanced at the sun, having just now noticed the passing of time. Time meant very little to the dead, however, times like these reminded the Guardian of how precious time was to the living. He floated near the girl. Her dark brown hair blew gently in the breeze. She lifted a finger to wipe a tear. He hovered closer, close enough to peer into her chocolate brown eyes. He slid further back and frowned. This girl was grieving. She was alone and that was the perfect snack for the Granger. The Granger, the harvester of souls. Some said the Granger was as old as time, but others said he suffered so much loss at the hands of his fellow humans that he shunned them and found a way to harvest their souls. No matter what his origin, the Granger was most certainly on his way towards the graveyard. The Guardian knew it, the ghosts knew it, and the dead knew it. The only ones blissfully unaware were the living, but then, they never paid attention to the things that really mattered. That’s why they kept on dying.
The girl stood and brushed the dirt off her leggings. She looked to be in her mid-teens, perhaps a little older. The Guardian floated near enough to follow her, but stayed enough away that his coldness would not alert her. He glanced up as she entered a drab apartment complex. He followed her in and noted how she maintained a strained and clearly put on smile as she spoke to the adults in the building. He noted how she drifted as if on auto-pilot from the fridge to her room. He watched as other people around her age flooded in and spoke animatedly about their days. The girl barely responded.
Okay, the Guardian thought, I better help this girl. Or her soul is going to end up reaped by the Granger and possibly her grandfather’s soul as well. The Guardian found a spot near the window and made himself comfortable, well, as comfortable as a three hundred year old ghost could be amongst the living. He watched as the girl cried herself to sleep. He watched as she tossed and turned all night, only to cry out and wake herself up. He watched as anguish and despair flooded the girl’s dreams. He was struck by how deeply she felt her loss. The old man must have truly meant something to her. And now, she had no one. The Guardian tried to formulate a plan to fend off the Granger if he happened to cross the creature. In all of his years, he had never crossed paths with the Granger. He knew that very shortly, that would all change.
Just before dawn, he felt it. A shift. Almost a ripple. A predator had entered his territory. The Granger was here.
Shortly after feeling the unsettling change, a ghost flitted into the girl’s room and hovered next to him. “Oh please, Guardian! Return to the graveyard at once! The dead are trying to flee to warn the living yet again!” the ghost man pleaded.
The Guardian glanced over at the girl, who was blessedly asleep at last, and then nodded his head. He would return to check on her once he settled the dead.
The Granger strolled into the town. He never paid attention to the towns and cities that crossed his path. It was the sorrow that he found stimulating. He tilted his head and sniffed the air. He was bombarded by so many different smells, fear, excitement, loathing, and his favorite, despair. A smile crossed his thin lips. Tall and lanky, he appeared in the shape of a thin man. But it was his face that was unnerving. Each and every soul that he had ever eaten, fought for dominance on his face. Hundreds, thousands of faces flashed across his face until he would settle on one. He chose a man’s face presently. The very man who had put up such an intense fight that his soul tasted of adrenaline when the Granger had consumed it. He tilted his head to the left, knocking some of the souls back down to his belly while the face he chose settled in. He sniffed again and caught the very distinct and intoxicating smell of grief. The man’s face portrayed on the Granger’s, smiled as he set off in the direction of the smell.
The girl jumped awake. She swore she heard a bell. She looked around her dark room and found nothing out of the ordinary. The smallest amount of light peaked in through her window, but her room was still cast mostly in shadows. She clutched her blanket to her and slid further down her bed. She heard it again, the tinkling of a small bell. She sat up, her heart racing. She leaned a little forward to see better in the darkest corner of her room. There is nothing there, she repeated to herself over and over again. She had almost convinced herself of that, until a man stepped out of the shadows. He was tall and his face rippled as yet another face made its way to the surface. She screamed, but her voice sounded small and far away. The bell tinkled as the man darted for her. He was too fast for her to properly react. He grabbed hold of her. His fingers were icy cold as he yanked her from her bed. She screamed again, this time her voice sounded larger, but still not normal.
Why can’t anyone hear me? she wondered. Her breath blasted out of her lungs as the Granger tossed her over his shoulder on his way out of her apartment building. She felt frozen in place. Ice danced along her skin, flooded her veins, and stilled her voice. The Granger let out a rumble of a laugh as he carried her away into the early morning, the insistent bell tinkling at his side.
He walked on for what felt like an eternity to the girl. She tried to move, to fight back, to escape, but it was no use. The ice remained within her. The Granger made his way down to the graveyard. He tilted his head again and sniffed. He turned and headed up the hill that led to the newer part of the cemetery. The girl’s screams died on her lips when he dropped her on the ground. Stars flashed before her eyes from the abrupt stop when she met the ground. She tried to scramble away from the man with the many faces. Every face that flashed across his laughed and relished in her fear. Each face crueler than the previous. She felt the ice in her veins ebbing away. She tried to move again and discovered that she could somewhat control her own body again. Too weak to stand, she crawled backwards, ramming straight into a headstone. She turned and read the name on it, it was her grandfather’s. A sob escaped her throat.
“You led me here. Your grief was like breadcrumbs to the recently departed. I shall enjoy eating your soul and then that of your loved one,” the man said as four faces shifted one after the other.
“Not this one, Granger,” the Guardian appeared in front of the girl.
A smile crossed one of the Granger’s faces. “Guardian, you cannot stop me. It is my right to harvest any soul I choose.”
The Guardian shook his ghostly head, “Not this time. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.” The Guardian launched himself at the Granger.
The Granger growled and shrieked as the Guardian attacked. The bell at the Granger’s side rang profusely.
The girl screamed. She jumped as her grandfather’s ghost appeared next to her.
“Run Clara! Run away from here!” her grandfather shouted.
The girl stood on shaking legs and ran. Tears streamed down her face. She made it to the cemetery gates when she stopped and turned. The Granger had said that he was going to eat the souls of her loved one. She couldn’t let that happen to her grandfather. She sprinted back to his grave.
“No Clara, run!”
She stubbornly shook her head. She watched as the Guardian tore piece after piece off the Granger. The many faces flashed in agony as he struck out at the Guardian. The Granger backed away, trying desperately to defend itself. The Guardian launched endless attacks. Once he had the Granger where he wanted him, he flung himself at the lurking beast. The Granger and the Guardian tumbled into the darkness of a freshly dug grave.
“Quick Clara!” her grandfather urged, “Fill in the grave!”
She ran over to the gaping tomb and grabbed a nearby shovel. She threw in the dirt as quickly as she could. The Guardian shifted and looked up to her, as she stood over the grave.
“Thank you,” she said, barely containing the emotion in her voice.
He nodded his head once and turned to press down on the Granger, driving him further down. She watched as the ghost of a young boy suppressed the lanky, terrifying figure of the Granger.
She filled in the grave and then stomped on the dirt to pack it in for good measure. She wiped the sweat from her forehead as she tossed the shovel to the ground. Her breath came in gasps from the exertion. She tossed her head back as the first rays of the sun kissed her skin.
“Congratulations. You have been saved by the dead,” a voice next to her made her jump.
She glanced at the man standing near her warily. The man was regal and poised. She could almost swear she could see a set of wings tucked behind him. The depths of his eyes were the color of honey and ancient. Oh so ancient.
“The only problem is Clara, you don’t get anything for nothing. The Guardian of this graveyard sacrificed his freedom to save you. The graveyard needs a new Guardian. Cherish your part in this,” the man reached in and yanked out her soul. She watched in horror as her body collapsed on the ground. The man smiled and disappeared. The ghost of her grandfather stood next to her ghost. He put his arm around her.
“We shall do this together Clara. I shall help you be the new Guardian,” he smiled as he stepped over her body and sunk back into his grave.
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