Graveyard

 It was a dark night, only illuminated by the full moon silhouetted between two large storm clouds. Perfect for a cemetery seance. Carlos and his friends had finished their annual trick-or-treating through the streets of Cayce, and now they entered the old cemetery, hands full of their Halloween haul. 

“Are you ready?” Manuel said as they passed through the old gates.

“I don’t know,” Carlos responded, wondering what he had gotten himself into. At first, it was just a fun Halloween adventure, but now that they were actually in the cemetery, it suddenly got real. They were going to try to talk to a ghost. “Are you sure we should be doing this?”

“Come on,” Manuel said. “You’re not scared?”

Carlos shook his head. “No, it will be fine.”

Their friends, Felix and Juan, led the way to an old gravestone. Felix began pulling candles out of his bag, and Juan was lighting them. 

“It’s now or never,” Carlos told himself.

The four boys each found a spot around the gravestone. Manuel looked around the circle. “We’re not going to… hold hands… are we?” 

“No need for that,” Felix said. “The moon and candles will guide the spirit to us.” He smirked. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

The boys laughed, and then Juan got quiet. He nodded to the other boys, and soon they were all silent.

“Spirit of this grave, we call you,” Juan said. “On this dark Halloween night, come back to the world of the living and talk once again.”

As Juan spoke, the wind suddenly picked up, slowly at first, before billowing all around them. The flames of the candles flickered with the wind but never extinguished.

“Spirit of this grave, we call you,” Felix repeated. “On this dark Halloween night, come back to the world of the living and talk once again.”

Soon, the cemetery trees began to blow, making scratchings and snappings all around them.

“Spirit of this grave, we call you,” Manuel repeated. “On this dark Halloween night, come back to the world of the living and talk once again.”

The flames of the candles grew taller and blew more wildly. Carlos was nervous to say his part, but he didn’t want to look afraid.

“S-spirit of this g-grave, we c-call you,” Carlos stuttered. “On this d-dark, H-Halloween night, c-come back to the w-world of the living–”

Suddenly, lightning cracked across the sky.

“--and t-talk once again,” Carlos finished.

All at once, the candles blew out, and a shadowy figure emerged from the headstone. Carlos looked around at his friends, who were all staring at the figure. 

“Who dares call me to the world of the living?” the figure bellowed.

Felix, Juan and Manuel all pointed at Carlos.

     “What?!” Carlos shook his head. “No, not me. I didn’t want to do this!” 

    “What did you want to say to me, child?” the figure asked.

    “N-nothing,” Carlos said. “I didn’t want to come here.”

    “You aren’t scared of me, are you?”

    “N-no!” Carlos insisted.

    The figure chucked. “Sounds like it to me!”

    The figure jumped down from the grave and landed in front of Carlos. “Boo!”

    Carlos backed up, rolling over himself.

    Then, all of his friends began to laugh. And the figure began to laugh. Carlos didn’t understand what was going on.

    “What’s so funny?”

    “You!” Manuel said, rolling in laughter.

    Carlos stood up and looked more closely at the figure. 

    “Oh my god,” he groaned. “Mr. Spigner!”

    The figure held his hand out to help Carlos up.

    “Did I scare you?”