Maplewood

Maplewood in 1985 was the kind of town where the streets came alive this time of year—houses decked out with grinning jack-o'-lanterns, skeletons hanging from porches, and kids running wild through the streets, their bags already half-filled with candy. But none of that interested Eddie and his group of friends. Halloween had lost its charm for them years ago. They needed more than cheap thrills and haunted houses.

Eddie was the first to bring up the idea, sitting in the back of Tommy’s beat-up Camaro after school. They’d all been bored, restless, looking for something that would pull them out of the dull haze of small-town life.

“We should go to the cemetery,” Eddie had said, his voice low and conspiratorial, as though they were talking about a crime. “You know, the one just outside town—the old one.”

Lisa had smirked, leaning forward, her blonde hair falling over her face like a curtain. “What’s so special about that place? I heard it’s just some rundown graveyard. People used to tell stories to scare the little kids.”

“Nah,” Eddie replied, lighting a cigarette, the ember glowing between his fingers in the dim light of the car. “It’s more than that. There’s something real there. I heard about this lantern. The caretaker’s lantern. You light it, and you can see them—the spirits.”

“The spirits?” Sarah, always cautious, had leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. “Come on, Eddie. You really believe that crap?”

He shrugged, exhaling smoke through the cracked window. “What’s the harm in finding out?”

And that was how they ended up here, in the middle of nowhere, the dark cemetery stretching out in front of them like a forgotten, ancient scar. The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light over the jagged, crumbling tombstones. Trees, skeletal and bare, whispered in the breeze, as though they were warning the group to turn back.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Sarah muttered, pulling her jacket tight around her slender frame. Her breath came out in frosty puffs.

Danny, always the skeptic, scoffed. “You’re scared of your own shadow, Sarah. It’s just an old graveyard. You guys are so gullible.”

Eddie walked ahead of the group; the lantern clutched tightly in his hand. The thing was heavy, its rusted metal cold to the touch. He hadn’t told the others about the weird feeling he’d had when he bought it from the flea market a few days ago. The seller had been old, his eyes cloudy and distant, as though he’d seen too much. He hadn’t said much—just that the lantern had a history, and that it would only work under the right conditions. Eddie hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

But now, standing in the middle of the graveyard, he wasn’t so sure.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Tommy muttered, his breath fogging up the night air as they approached the caretaker’s shed. It stood at the far end of the cemetery, half-rotten and leaning, as though it had long given up on the world.

“We light this, and we’ll be out of here in ten minutes, tops,” Eddie said. “But if we see something… well, let’s just say Halloween’s going to be a hell of a lot more interesting from now on.”

Lisa, who had been quiet until now, shivered. “Do we really want to see something? Like, really see it?”

Eddie didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The look on his face said it all—he wanted to see something. He needed to.

The shed groaned as Eddie pushed the door open. Inside, it was musty and cold, the smell of wet earth mixing with something far worse decay. The walls were covered in peeling, yellowed wallpaper, and in the center of the room was an old stone slab, covered in dust. Etched into the wall behind it was a symbol none of them recognized its jagged lines intersecting in unnatural ways.

“This feels… wrong,” Sarah whispered, taking a step back.

But Eddie was already striking the match, the flame flickering before it caught the wick of the lantern. The light sputtered and hissed before finally settling into a steady glow, casting long, distorted shadows over the room.

Almost immediately, the air shifted. The temperature dropped, and the faintest hum began to vibrate through the ground, as if the earth itself was stirring beneath their feet.

“What the hell is that?” Danny asked, his bravado cracking as the hum grew louder, reverberating in his chest.

“Maybe it’s the wind,” Lisa offered, though her voice was shaking.

Eddie’s heart raced. The lantern’s glow had changed. It wasn’t just a warm, flickering light anymore—it was… alive. It seemed to pulse, like a heartbeat, its glow deepening, casting everything in a sickly yellow hue. The shadows around them began to twist and stretch, bending in ways shadows shouldn’t.

“Something’s happening,” Eddie said, barely able to contain his excitement.

Suddenly, the stone slab in the center of the room cracked with a deafening snap. Sarah screamed, stumbling backward as the hum rose to a pitch that was unbearable. It was as if the air had turned to static, every breath sharp, every sound distorted.

Eddie turned to the others, his eyes wild. “Do you see that?”

They all stared in horror as dark shapes began to emerge from the corners of the room—humanoid figures, black as the void, their forms shifting and rippling like smoke. Their faces were hidden in shadow, but their presence was suffocating, a weight pressing down on their chests.

Lisa was the first to break. She ran for the door, but before she could reach it, the shadows moved faster. They enveloped her, swallowing her scream. One moment she was there, and the next, only the echo of her cry remained.

“Lisa!” Tommy shouted, rushing forward, but it was too late. The shadows closed around her like a fist, and she was gone.

Danny swore, backing away, eyes wide in terror. “This isn’t real… this can’t be real…”

But it was. The room was alive with the sounds of the dead, their voices whispering from the shadows, calling their names. The hum had turned into a chorus of moans, a chorus of grief and pain, as if the graveyard itself was mourning.

“We have to stop it,” Sarah said, her voice barely audible over the noise. “We have to break the lantern.”

Eddie clutched the lantern tightly to his chest. “No… no, this is what I wanted. This is real.”

Before they could stop him, Eddie lifted the lantern high and smashed it against the stone slab. The glass shattered, and for a moment, everything went dark.

Then the whispers stopped. The hum vanished. The graveyard outside was still again, silent as a tomb.

But something wasn’t right. Eddie stood in the center of the room, his back to them, his posture stiff and unnatural. Slowly, he turned around, and when he did, they saw his eyes. They weren’t his eyes anymore. They were black, voids of nothingness, as though something else was staring out from inside him.

“It’s not over,” Eddie said, his voice soft, almost gentle. Then his lips twisted into a grotesque grin. “It’s just begun.”

And in the distance, they saw it—the lantern’s light flickering back to life, casting its unholy glow across the gravestones once more.