Chapter 14: Night at the Graveyard — Tonight Will Not Be Sleepy!
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Moonlight streamed through the wooden window slats in pale, silvery beams. The shadows of the large trees swayed as if giant hands were pointing at something. Cicadas chirped incessantly, while distant dogs howled from the temple at the end of the alley, amplifying the eerie silence of the house… yet, in that quiet, I was about to close my eyes and drift into sleep.
But then—
Thunk. Thunk…
Something brushed lightly against my forehead. At first, I tried to ignore it, thinking it was a mosquito or a stray twig, but the second time it dragged across my brow, it felt deliberate—as if trying to wake me.
I jolted awake, eyes wide. A dark shadow loomed right in front of me!
"Heeyyy!!!"
My fist shot out instinctively. Thwack!
A groan followed immediately.
"Aahhh! Damn it—Ray!!! It's meee!"
I focused, and moonlight revealed James holding his face, tears threatening to spill like he'd just seen a midwife.
"Damn it! Why'd you punch your friend? I was just trying to wake you nicely!"
I froze, raising my hands quickly. "Hey! I'm sorry! I thought it was a ghost! Who wouldn't be scared if someone poked their face in the dark like this?"
Before I could recover, three more shadows appeared at the door—Jan, Thomas, and Maria—popping their heads in like pirates boarding a ship.
"You guys!?" I shouted. "It's late! What the hell are you doing breaking into my house!"
Jan spoke first, hands on hips like a traditional Thai dance heroine.
"It's about last night, during the Loi Krathong festival. The abbot asked us to help attend the funeral at the graveyard… tonight!"
She crossed her arms as if she were discussing buying snacks, but my eyebrows twitched, eyes wide. "Whaaat!? You said what!?"
The already creepy atmosphere of the room chilled further. Tree shadows danced across the walls, like they were laughing at me.
I gaped. "Wait, wait… isn't this the monks' and gravediggers' job!? We're just students, not funeral attendants!"
Everyone turned to James, still clutching his swollen face. I narrowed my eyes. Tell me now.
James sighed heavily. "I didn't want to go either, but the abbot asked politely… I have a charitable heart, you know? So I agreed first."
Maria chimed in immediately, teasing, "You agreed even without knowing what you were helping with? My friend, you're braver than I thought!"
Thomas's eyes widened at James. "You didn't tell me we had to go to the graveyard!"
James raised his hands in quick apology. "I was afraid you guys wouldn't go! Sorry… but the monks said, we're the lucky ones. It has to be us!"
I held my head in disbelief. "Lucky? My luck is so damn strong that I have to sit by corpses instead of a gravedigger?! James, you're impossible!"
James forced a sheepish grin. "Come on… we're all going, not leaving you alone."
Jan rolled her eyes. "Heh… if we meet a ghost, James, you're the one I'll push first!"
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Cut scene — the camera pans across the pitch-black sky.
The moon is swallowed by thick clouds. The shadows of the giant trees sway. Dogs howl mournfully, echoing through the night… amplifying the graveyard's chilling stillness.
Jan and I exchanged glances, sighing. "We're screwed…"
Our eyes spoke volumes without a single word.
Suddenly—
A figure stepped out from the shadows. Thunk… Thunk… Old sandals hit the dirt in a rhythmic echo. A wooden cane tapped in sync…
The gravedigger appeared in worn white robes. His eyes hollow, his hair messy, as if the forest wind had never stopped blowing. Every step he took brought him closer, his wheezing breath following.
His gnarled hand extended an old book toward me—a thick, dusty volume that smelled of coffins. "This… is the chant."
Before I could refuse, he started handing out amulets—small Buddhist pendants—placing them in everyone's hands as if distributing ghost-fighting charms.
We all froze, staring at each other in silence. Not a word escaped anyone.
Finally, I broke the tension. "Um… can I get another one? A big one… like… ten Buddhas on it?"
The gang whipped their heads to me, eyes wide. "Whaaaat!!"
The gravedigger paused, staring silently. I raised my trembling hand. "Never mind…" My voice sounded like a child begging for a toy and getting the death stare from a parent.
But suddenly, he pulled a special, large amulet from his old satchel—ten tiny Buddha figures dangling along it—and placed it heavily into my palm.
I swallowed hard. "Th-thank you…" (But in my heart: I'm safe! I'm VIP now! Protected by ten Buddhas!)
Thomas raised his hand nervously. "Um… do I have to wear one? I'm Christian, you know…"
The gravedigger snapped his gaze at him, low and chilling. "Ghosts don't care… what your religion is…"
The already tense, eerie atmosphere felt compressed, suffocating. The whole gang stiffened in place, bracing themselves for what was to come.
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The sound of the wooden cane echoed again, thud… thud…
"Follow me…"
We stepped forward, one cautious step at a time. The damp earth beneath our feet smelled of long-dried blood and wet grass. The faint scent of old incense mingled with the earthy fragrance of the graveyard.
Then the sight in front of me made my breath catch —
A small wooden house beside the crematorium stood in lonely isolation. Beneath its eaves was a bamboo platform, stark and prominent. On the platform lay a body wrapped in pristine white cloth, fluttering slightly in the night breeze. The ends of the cloth were stained dark as if something had seeped through…
The corpse's hands were still clasped tightly, holding a lotus flower and small incense sticks, as if it had just gone through a ritual. The smell was heavier now, mingling with the damp night air.
The undertaker stopped, moving slowly, and turned to look at us. His eyes were bloodshot and hollow.
"You… and you," he said, pointing with his gnarled fingers at me and James.
Immediately, James and I whipped our heads to each other. "Huh!? Me!?" Both our hands trembled as we pointed at ourselves, utterly bewildered.
The undertaker nodded slowly. "Yes… you two. Go… place the body on the stretcher. It will make carrying it easier."
My legs weakened. I swallowed hard. "Shit… this has to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience…"
I turned to Jan and whispered, "I'm screwed…"
He gritted his teeth, whispering back, "Pray… I'll walk right beside you."
My hands shook so much I almost dropped the amulet. I tried to approach the bamboo platform carefully, each step creaking ominously as if the floorboards might collapse at any moment.
I pressed my hands together in prayer, muttering the words half-right, half-wrong.
"Namo tassa… uh… Buddho… help me…"
James wasn't any better. His lips moved rapidly, but the sound came out more like a carnival chant than a proper prayer.
Together, we reached out to grip the cloth-wrapped body. It was heavier than I expected. The white cloth was taut and icy cold. My heart pounded and sweat trickled down my spine, despite the chill.
We approached the back of the temple. Our footsteps on gravel and dry leaves crunched sharply, crack… crack… Everyone held a lantern, its dim circle of light barely pushing back the black sea of darkness around us.
The graveyard behind the temple wasn't just quiet — it was oppressive, each tree trunk towering like a giant hand pressing down. The wind whispered through the branches, whoosh… whoosh…, making the leaves shiver as if murmuring our names.
We froze for a moment. The undertaker followed slowly, his old sandals tapping rhythmically against the ground, thud… thud…
"Follow… don't linger," he commanded, his deep voice calm yet laden with eerie authority.
We followed him, one step at a time. My hands gripped the spade tightly, freezing with fear. I looked around… Old graves lined the path. Some held brittle flower remnants and small skeletons drifting in the wind. Faint incense sticks still smoldered, the scent of burnt incense and wet soil almost choking me.
Jan walked beside me, face tense, holding his lantern high. "Damn… I just saw a skeleton!"
Maria flinched, "Ah… I want to go home!"
I tried to stifle a laugh, scared yet amused at the same time.
We reached the prepared grave. The undertaker stopped at the edge, staring at each of us in turn.
"You… Thomas… lower it down."
Thomas froze, trembling slightly, but carefully supported the corpse, trying not to soil the white cloth with earth. Then his foot caught, crack! The body swayed slightly. Silence. The quiet was so thick I could hear my own heartbeat, thump… thump…
I stood rigid, watching Thomas rise slowly. His face was pale but determined. Sympathy surged in me, but I had to restrain it.
The undertaker looked at us and extended a hand in command.
"Ladies, shine the lights! You help bury it."
I saw Jan waving his lantern over the body. The shadows dancing across our faces made my heart race. The wind whispered again, whoosh…, leaves shaking as if warning us not to slip.
I held the spade tighter. The damp, cold, musty earth touched my hands as we slowly buried the body. All our eyes were tense, muscles rigid with shared fear.
The silence was complete, yet filled with the uncanny. Occasional drops of dew fell from leaves onto roofs and soil, plop… plop…
Then—
A thud echoed from the wooden coffin below. Every one of us froze, eyes wide as goosebumps prickled our skin.
"Hey!"
We all shouted in unison, as if rehearsed. And the body, which had lain peacefully, slowly began to sit upright. Its movements stiff, mechanical. We almost screamed. I whirled toward the undertaker, but in a blink, he had disappeared into the darkness of the graveyard, leaving us alone with the lifeless-turned-living figure.
I felt my legs weaken, nearly collapsing like everyone else. I had to gather all my courage. I glanced at Thomas, trembling like a fledgling bird. "Thomas… push it down… maybe it's just some hinges or something."
Thomas looked at me, eyes pleading yet scolding. I signaled with a wink and a fierce face 'Do it, don't complain!' He exhaled heavily and stepped cautiously toward the dark grave. Slowly, he used both hands to push the corpse down…
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Suddenly, the corpse's feet shot up!
They slammed straight into Thomas, knocking him backward, almost toppling him. Maria, who was standing nearby, immediately shouted to James, who was close, "James! Go hold the legs down, quick!"
James looked utterly hopeless but ultimately had no choice. He slowly approached the grave, each step heavy with resignation, and pressed the corpse's feet down, while Thomas held the torso steady. Together, they managed to lay the body flat again. Then the three of us carefully shoveled dirt over the corpse, each hand moving slowly and deliberately, with Jan and Maria holding their lanterns above to illuminate the scene.
As we were finishing, the wind started to howl, making Jan and Maria's lantern flames flicker and dance. A chill crept through the air, prickling every nerve. And then… the corpse slowly sat up again in the grave!
We didn't hesitate this time. Everyone scrambled out of the grave immediately and backed away, standing in front of the burial pit. Jan, nearly losing her mind, shouted, "Or… is this why he gave us the prayer book!?"
I frantically plunged my hand into my pants pocket. My hands were shaking so much I could barely grab anything, but I managed to pull out the small prayer book. I opened it to the first page at random, panic making me unsure where to start, and began chanting in a trembling voice:
"Itipi so… Phra ka wa… Arahant Samma Sambuddho…"
(Explanation: This is the opening of a traditional Thai Buddhist chant. "Itipi so… Phra ka wa… Arahant Samma Sambuddho" praises the Buddha, recognizing him as the perfected enlightened one.)
As I chanted, the wind howled stronger, almost threatening to snatch the book from my hands. I held it in front of me like a shield. Suddenly, the rest of my friends clung to me like baby monkeys to their mother, hoping that the chant I was reciting would protect us all from what was coming.
In the absolute silence of the graveyard, James's shaky voice broke through nervously:
"Ray… is this chant even going to work?"
I, staring intently at the old letters in the book, looked up at James with a blank expression. "I don't know… it's just a chant monks recite all the time," I said casually, then returned my gaze to the page.
Thomas, standing beside James, murmured in a trembling voice, "Really…?"
Then, James began whispering some chant under his breath. Thomas followed, chanting another one, almost like parrots mimicking the words. I looked up from the book again, frowning in confusion.
"What are you guys chanting?" I asked, half-annoyed, half-surprised.
James kept whispering the chant and replied, "Metta."
(Explanation: "Metta" is the Pali term for loving-kindness or benevolence, a prayer of goodwill toward all beings.)
Thomas proudly interjected, "Chinabanchorn."
(Explanation: "Chinabanchorn" is a Thai Buddhist protective chant, believed to provide spiritual shield or blessing. It's considered powerful and should not be recited lightly, especially in graveyards.)
Their answers left me momentarily stunned, my heart pounding unnaturally fast. I thought to myself, "Damn it! I'm Thai and I can barely recite this… but wait… which chant exactly?"
Then Jan, speaking with deadly seriousness, interrupted, "Don't you guys know? These chants aren't supposed to be recited in the forest." She paused to let the weight of her words sink in. "The Metta chant will attract spirits seeking merit… and the Chinabanchorn will enrage them. And today is a Buddhist holy day."
At Jan's words, James and Thomas froze mid-chant. Their faces went pale as if soaked in water. Panic radiated through their bodies.
Maria, who had been silent for a long while, nearly forgotten in my mind, began speaking with a trembling voice, barely holding back tears:
"I think… the chant is too strong…"
She slowly raised her trembling hand, pointing toward what lay ahead. I, fully focused on the book in my hands, slowly lifted my head to follow her gesture. Gradually lowering the prayer book, I revealed what was in front of us.
The sight stole my breath. A figure stood before us. Its face was pale like aged bark, cracked and lined with deep grooves. Its eyes were pitch black, void of any spark—or sometimes glowing red like dying embers. Its lips were dry and split, revealing yellow, jagged teeth. Its hair wasn't normal hair, but a tangle of dry twigs, some with brittle leaves clinging. It looked like a dead tree brought to life. Its frame was thin, almost skeletal, yet unnaturally tall. Arms and legs stretched like branches, shadows twisting unnaturally around it.
The smell was not human—it was damp earth, decayed leaves, and the stench of rotting flesh. And worst of all, it wasn't alone… the entire graveyard seemed to swarm with them.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, almost swallowing my words, but still mustered the strength to fling the prayer book at the spirit with all my might. It didn't react at all.
I whirled to look at my friends… but the space was empty. They had vanished. Only I remained, trembling and standing alone amidst the darkness.
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Damn… real friends, huh? I thought bitterly to myself, ready to sprint for my life, when suddenly something icy grabbed my wrist.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, calling for my friends to come back.
"Damn it, bro!? Get back here! A ghost is holding my arm! Help me!"
At that very moment, the wind rustling through the tops of the banana trees sounded almost like a whisper sliding close to my ear. It wasn't a coherent voice, but it made me shiver as if someone were murmuring right beside me.
I spoke with a trembling voice, afraid to look back.
"Bro… let me go…"
"Never," a hoarse voice replied, sounding like it had emerged from the depths of hell itself.
"Please… just let me go, bro!" I pleaded again, but the answer was the same.
My patience snapped when I realized begging didn't work. I spun around to face it.
"Oi! Just let me go! Don't you see my friends have all left me! You damn ghost!"
"You called me here yourself," it answered flatly, annoyingly calm.
"I didn't call you! I don't even know your name, how could I call you, you dumb ghost!" I retorted in frustration.
"I don't care… you're staying with me."
"Go stay with your father, you bastard!" I shot back, launching myself forward and swinging a full punch at the ghost's face, then immediately bolted, running like my life depended on it.
In the eerie silence of the withered banana grove, Jan walked cautiously beside me. Her footsteps crunched on the dry leaves, echoing through the forest. Suddenly, her gaze landed on a young woman standing ahead, dressed in a faded traditional Thai outfit. A chill ran down her spine.
Gathering her courage, Jan asked with a trembling voice,
"Are you… a person?"
The woman remained completely still, like a statue, before tilting her head slightly and replying in a sweet, chilling voice:
"If I say… no?"
Jan's eyes widened in shock, her face turning pale.
"If you're not, then run! What the hell are you doing standing there?!" she yelled, spinning on her heel and sprinting at full speed. She shot out from the darkness of the grove like a streak of light escaping the shadows.
Elsewhere, Maria was fleeing blindly, praying over and over,
"God… help me…"
until her body nearly gave out. She collapsed against a tree, trying to catch her breath. Silence fell again, heavy and oppressive… until she felt a shadow standing behind her.
Eyes squeezed shut, voice quivering, Maria whispered,
"I'm a Christian!"
A sweet, chilling voice responded beside her ear,
"I'm a Christian too."
That was enough. Maria screamed at the top of her lungs, eyes wide with sheer terror, abandoning any caution. She ran blindly through the grove, letting her scream echo across the withered banana trees.
Thomas stumbled through the unfamiliar terrain, breath ragged and chest heaving. He collapsed, pressing both hands against the massive trunk of a tree to steady himself.
Then he felt it—an eerie, unnatural texture on the tree's bark. When he lifted his eyes along the trunk, his stomach churned with fear.
Before him stood the most terrifying figure of his life—a towering entity that blocked the moonlight entirely. Its emaciated body revealed every rib like burnt, dry branches. Dark, tattered flesh clung to its bones like wet rags. Its hollow abdomen bulged outward, resembling an ancient leather sack struggling to hold its last breath.
A hoarse, desolate wail emanated from its throat, echoing through the forest like wind sweeping through a cave. Its mouth, however, was minuscule, needle-sized, almost invisible—an eternal curse trapped in suffering.
Its hands were grotesquely large, gnarled, with long, spindly fingers tipped like claws. Thomas could do nothing but cry inwardly, inching backward slowly.
(The spirit Thomas encountered is a Preta, a type of Thai hungry ghost punished for past misdeeds, condemned to eternal hunger and torment. Its appearance symbolizes the suffering and insatiable hunger of souls trapped in limbo.)
Meanwhile, James barreled across the wide rice field without watching his steps. He tripped over a rock, face and body splattered with cold, sticky mud. A heavy silence enveloped the field, broken only by the soft rustle of rice stalks in the wind.
Suddenly, a strange light appeared in the distance—a greenish-red glow hovering above the rice tips. It drifted slowly yet deliberately, moving with the purpose of a living creature. It was not fireflies, not a campfire, but a radiance soaked in anguish, hunting in the night.
The light drew closer, revealing a horrifying figure: a gaunt woman's face, corpse-pale, her eyes lifeless but glowing with ravenous hunger. Under her neck dangled the most grotesque feature—her intestines, long, viscous, glowing faintly in the dark, moving as if serpentine. The foul stench of rot, decay, and raw flesh carried in the wind.
Seeing this, James gathered every ounce of strength he had left and ran, the ghoul screaming in pursuit. He scooped handfuls of sticky mud and hurled them at the creature, hoping to slow it down.
(The entity James faced is a Krasue, a Thai nocturnal ghost with a floating head and trailing intestines, preying on the living at night.)
After fleeing the horrors of the banana grove, I collapsed behind a large rock, chest heaving, hands trembling. "Damn… I survived," I whispered faintly.
A low, deep voice whispered into my ear, "Yes… you survived."
I jolted, spinning to scream, only for a hand to clamp over my mouth, a whisper following: "It's me, James."
I looked at my friend's mud-caked face, barely recognizable. "Damn… looks like you survived a storm," I muttered, brushing his muddy hands away and wiping my own.
Not long after, Jan, Thomas, and Maria emerged from the bushes, equally disheveled. We huddled together silently until Jan rasped, "What now?"
I sighed, exhausted, "Hundreds of spirits… each with their own amulet. Which one's stronger?"
Thomas and Maria pointed behind me. I felt the ominous signal immediately. "Not again…"
And so, we sprinted once more, fleeing the night. Only when the morning sun finally broke through did we escape the forest.
As we emerged, I turned and yelled at the lingering spirits, furious and exhausted:
"Damn it! I went to help bury the bodies, and you still haunt me! You… you should have rotted in peace! You scared others too! You're human like me before death… greedy ghosts! If I survive, I swear I'll find a blessed knife and strike every last one of you. I'll take all the rice too, every bit! Damn it!"
Our chaos wasn't over yet. Upon finding an old wooden building, we dashed inside, utterly drained. To our shock, the entire classroom was already there.
I muttered to myself, "Forgot class existed…"
We collapsed, too exhausted to move, until P'Theer ran in, followed by the teacher and servants, asking with concern, "What happened?"
"We… helped the gravedigger bury bodies… and got haunted," I replied weakly. "I can't… take it anymore…"
The scene fades———