Night creeper

Night Creeper

The moonlight crept through the towering tombstones like the streets of a deserted, desolate city. Casting elongating shadows as the moon rose higher and higher into the night sky, shining its silver light upon the hard stubborn faces of the tombstones and headstones.
Mist crept in like an agent of the night, curving its way around the graves of the dead towards to church, storming the church’s holy gates. No light came from within; it was as dead as dead can be. It was like a bad horror movie.
I took a breath. I absorbed my fear, moving; silent as the grave. I followed the winding paths in between the headstones. Fear crept in like an unholy demon that had possessed me. I was only going to the church why should it be so freighting? “Coward, you are a Coward” I said to myself.
I could smell the fear upon me, it was in my sweat. Wiping my brow I stopped, unable to move. “SNAP”. I turned. I starred at the treeline beyond the church yard; nothing. No movement, aside from the rustling of the leaves.
“SNAP”. There it was again. Without hesitation I made a brake for it; 10 metres, 5, 4, 3. The oak door was within my grasp. I turned to face out across the church yard and the winding streets of moonlight in between the graves.
The mist had reached the church walls when I noticed him. Standing by the gate, cloaked, hooded in black robes. Staring with yellow eyes like jewels from the pits of hell itself. Snarling, like a rabid dog. I blinked. He was gone. The mist disappeared in a gust of wind. I was safe.
Or so I thought.

Conner Matthams and Ben Ward