Ethan stared at the old cemetery gate, its iron bars twisted and rusted with age. As the new caretaker of the cemetery, Ethan was supposed to take over the cleaning duties and keep watch at night. He took a deep breath as he recalled several stories the villagers told him about the cemetery. About the screams they had heard echo in the night. Ethan was terrified but helpless. He needed this job. As midnight approached, Ethan walked around the old cemetery with tensed shoulders. Chills continued to run down his spine at every small sound that echoed. Shadows stretched long and the air grew still. And then in the haunting silence, a mere whisper echoed. “Please help us.” Ethan froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. He looked around frantically, trying to find the source of that whisper. But when nothing else followed that plea, Ethan shook his head and continued to walk forward. He was just being crazy. Nothing else. Ethan reached the last grave in the cemetery and suddenly...