Under the scorching hot sun, the insects which usually creaked in the graves dared not make a sound.
Whether or not they were still around, was unknown.
The caretaker had long closed for the day, even though the city was wide awake, with activities still buzzing like a chaotic afternoon.
But as time ticked into what should have been late night, the heat from the sun became a matter of deep concern.
Perhaps, the ground had become too hot, something beneath the earth moved.
At first it was just a faint disturbance in the soil near one grave. But it quickly became a repeated unsettling occurrence around other graves.
A small creature burst from the cracked surface of a tombstone base. It looked like a glossy black skink, yet wrong in almost every way. Its body was long and segmented, its limbs thin like hooked needles.
It moved with frantic speed, skittering across concrete and dirt alike, while making a chirping sound like a wailing cricket.
It darted to the next grave.
