the trees shiver in the wind as you stand before the old graveyard gates. You've heard the rumors - will you brave ahead?

You step inside. The air grows colder. The path ahead is shrouded in shadow.

the headstone is cool and blackened from dust. there are fresh flowers placed before it. you wipe at the marble to try and make out what the engraving says.

frances/jules. they. xxiv. october iv.
tme. lesbian. white/afrolatine. canada.
irredeemable media enthusiast. kpop apologist. bruce wayne sympathizer.
pop media + horror themes

along the path is a series of signs. each points far into the fog. it feels like they keep leading you right back to the entrance.

mine. music. film. tv. horror. batman. mail.

the cemetery is full of regal statues. some of them look familiar. if they didn't feel so cold, you might have thought they were real people.

the air in the structure is heavy and wet. the wind howls against the marble. it almost sounds like whispering, coming from inside the walls.

main. tloz blog. reading blog. spotify. storygraph. insta (moots ony). ko-fi. redbubble

You turn to leave, but as you step toward the gate, a low gust of wind blows past from behind - soft, urgent, and familiar. The gates creak, as if urging you to stay.