The Guardians of the Grave
And the earth began to move.
First, a slight tremor. Then, from all around the cemetery, from countless graves, from under stones, from cracked soil, white shadows gushed forth. They were in human form, but only silhouettes. They were like smoke, like vapor, shimmering in the moonlight. Some rose with broken necks, some with huge wounds in their chests, some with their faces hidden in nothing but bottomless sorrow. Hundreds... maybe thousands. Without a hum, without a scream, they surrounded Rifat and Murat with only a dreadful silence. They formed a circle, a tight, icy wall that left no room for them to move or escape.
The two men trembled, their teeth chattering. Murat’s knees gave way, and he collapsed. Rifat pointlessly held out the stolen cross he was clutching tightly in his hand.
Within the circle formed by the white shadows, two points began to darken. From among the white vapors, a darker, denser, more demonic entity rose. Pitch black, a silhouette that swallowed light. It was in human form but not natural; it seemed shaped from pain, hatred, and pure evil. Another one appeared behind it. Both resembled creatures with horn-like protrusions on their heads and long claws. Their eyes burned like red embers.
The white entity, gliding on its reversed feet, retreated, disappearing behind the black silhouettes. As if its job was done.
One of the black entities stretched its claw towards Rifat. The movement was so fast the eye couldn’t follow it. Rifat could only feel his frozen scream deep in his throat. The other black entity turned towards Murat, who was frozen stiff on the ground.
And then, silence fell. A true silence. The wind stopped. The crickets in the trees fell silent. The distant owl’s call ceased. Everything seemed frozen in time.
The black entities dragged their prey to the center of the circle formed by the white shadows, next to the opened priest’s grave. The soil parted like a black, wet mouth. Rifat and Murat, their eyes wide with terror, unable to make a sound or offer any resistance, were pulled towards this dark pit. In their last moments, they saw the expression on the faces of the white shadows: not anger, not vengeance... only an infinite, crushing sadness and resignation.
The black entities dropped them into the pit. The soil, flowing from their opened graves, immediately began to cover them. No scream, no final struggle was heard.
Within a minute, it was all over.
The white shadows returned their vapor-like bodies to the earth, gliding back into their graves. The black silhouettes melted and vanished into the deep shadows. And the snow-white, reverse-footed entity stood at the edge of the forest for another moment. Its empty eye sockets scanned the cemetery, now empty and silent once more. Then, shimmering like pale smoke in the moonlight, it vanished among the trees.
When the first light of morning illuminated the old Greek cemetery, everything appeared calm and orderly. Father Kyrillos’s grave looked as if it had never been opened. Perhaps the soil gave the impression of having been slightly dug up, but the dry leaves and a thin layer of earth that had fallen on it had covered the events of the night. The cross and the rings were in place, on their owner’s bony fingers.
Only, near the entrance to the cemetery, a broken shovel lay on the ground. And next to it, in the soil, two deep, desperate grooves, as if someone had clawed at the ground in a frantic, hopeless struggle...
As the sun rose, birds began to sing, life went on. But deep within the cemetery, especially around Father Kyrillos’s grave, a chill that raised goosebumps lingered in the air, mixed with the deep scent of soil and a faint smell of burning, and a completely, utterly unnatural silence hung suspended.
Perhaps it had no guard, but it was not abandoned. And never again was anyone there at three in the morning. No one dared to disturb the peace of the dead at that hour when dimensional doors were said to crack open. Because now, there was a snow-white, reverse-footed guardian there, and the thousands of white shadows it could summon from the earth. Promising not thieves, but all who disturbed, an eternal silence.
