[Short Story] My Child from the dead

Prompt: A couple unable to conceive and not allowed to adopt have spent years learning the dark arts. Tonight they visit the local graveyard with plans to raise a child.

"Are you sure about this?" Alex's hushed whispers echoed in the silence of the night, louder that he liked it, as he struggled to keep up with Sam.

"I thought we agreed on this?" Sam shot back, his voice not hiding the annoyance that he felt. There was only one goal in his mind that night, one that even Alex could not stop.

"I just think we should rethink this," Alex tried to protest, his voice laced with fear and uncertainly. He looked around him, studying the tomb stones that reached out scarily into the chilling night. He tried to not imagine what laid beneath their feet.

Sam however, was not one bit affected. "Finally," he exclaimed, standing before a small cross, flanked by two angel figurines.

*Here lies little Angeline, who was gone too soon from her beloved family*, the carvings on the stone read. The dirt beneath them was still fresh, its dark brown colour a stark contrast to the green surrounding it.

Sam extended his hand to Alex. "Can I have the candles, please?"

"Sam, listen to me, I think we should really rethink this, maybe we can get a pet instead?" Alex said, his hands gripping the straps of his bag tightly. As they trudged through the cemetery, he was beginning to regret his decision to agree with Sam. To raise a child from the dead, so they could call their own.

Sam stepped aggressively towards Alex, his hand still extended. "Candles, Alex." Sam's voice was firm, loud. Alex gave a loud sigh as he handed the bag over to Sam, wondering if he has just made the biggest mistake in his life.

"Good," Sam simply said, before he poured open the contents of the bag and began setting up in front of the child's grave. Alex stood there, arms folded across his chest, with only the thought of leaving. He studied the flower wreaths around the grave, wondering if it was despicable of them to desecrate the recently deceased with their longing for a child.

But it was hardly their fault, anyway, he tried to console himself. They had tried so hard to adopt a child, but everywhere they went, the authorities just refused to let them. They were not a traditional family unit, those people would argue. Every child needs a mother, they would say.

Fed up with the absurdity that was the adoption system, Sam suggested an occult practice instead, 'to show those idiots they cannot control us'. Alex agreed initially to humour Sam, to let Sam cope with the anger and disappointment with the authorities. He never knew how serious Sam was with the suggestion. Until that night.

As strange rumbling beneath Alex's feet broke his attention, as he nervously stepped away. "Sam? I think it's working," he called out to his other half, but Sam was not listening. Seated in a strange circle surrounded by candles, Sam continued to chant a language that Alex had not heard before.

"Sam?" Alex called out again, only to be interrupted by a hand shoot up from beneath the dirt. He could see the skin and flesh peeling off to reveal the bone underneath. Alex tried not to scream as he made his way closer to Sam, the rumbling beneath him getting stronger and louder.

Sam continued on his chant, his voice filling the darkness of the night, permeating through the entire graveyard. Alex watched in horror as he saw more hands piercing through the dirt, not only from the plot they were at.

"Sam!" He screamed this time, no longer able to contain the rising fear inside of him. "Stop! I don't think you're only summoning the child from this grave!"

The chants from Sam stopped, but the around them, the dead slowly began to rise from their resting grounds. Sam turned his head to face Alex, who shockingly realized that Sam's eyes were glowing red in the night now.

"It's okay, Alex," Sam said, his voice a strange pitch, like there were many entities speaking from within him. "I have always wanted to have many children."


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