Mr. Carter pulls the large wooden door open and shoves Mark inside.

“Have fun,” he says to the boy. “Maybe you’ll finally learn your lesson.” With that, the old man slams the door shut, sliding a board over it so Mark will have no hope of getting out.

“Hey! Let me out!” He bangs on the door, but it’s useless. He curses himself for staying at Jake’s too long and leaving his phone there. Stupid, stupid.

He fumbles around in his backpack for a flashlight, flicking it on.

“Would you mind turning that off?” a small voice asks.

“What the-?” Mark shouts, swinging around the flashlight. “Who’s there?” A second later, the light goes out. “Oh no, not now,” he begs, hitting the light against his hand. But the light doesn’t come back on.

“Do you want some help?” a woman’s voice whispers. Mark jerks his head up to see the figure of a woman standing in front of him. She’s young—college age—and beautiful.

“Who are you?” he asks, far more intrigued than fearful.

“My name is Sally,” she answers. “Do you need some help?”

“Um…” he says, eyeing the flashlight. “Sure.” He holds out the flashlight, but when he drops it in her hand, she disappears.

Mark screams and grips the wall behind him. Please, get me out of here! He doesn’t even know how long he’s been in here, but it feels like it’s been hours. Out of ideas, he walks to the back of the small space, turns back and rams into the door as hard as he can. The hit brings him onto the rock ground, knocking him unconscious.

Mark is woken up to a hand shaking his shoulder.

“Wake up, kid,” a man’s voice yells.

Mark opens his eyes. It’s still dark outside, but the moonlight reveals a clear outline of Mr. Carter. “Oh, it’s you,” Mark says.

“Who’d you think it was, boy?” Mr. Carter snaps.

“Just…somebody else,” Mark manages to say, not sure if what he saw before was real or just some dream. What he does know is he wants out of here, and fast. “Can I leave now?” Mark begs.

“Sure. I think you’ve learned your lesson,” the old man answers.

“Yes, sir,” Mark assures him.

“Now get out of here,” Mr. Carter orders. “And don’t let me catch you walking through here again. One more short cut, and it’ll be longer than a night you spend in here.” Though Mark’s not sure what Mr. Carter means by that, he can recognize a serious threat when he hears one.

“Yes sir,” he says, running out the door. He doesn’t stop until he’s home—far away from the dark cemetery and all that happened there.