The island's graveyard sits atop one of the rolling hills. It looks out onto the sea in a peaceful spot a little aside the road. The sounds of the waves, of the sea birds, and of the wind is all you'll hear. Many generations have been laid to rest in this peaceful hill, finding eternal peace in the quiet.
Yet something lay beneath the dead, something time had tried to forget, something the earth had tried to hide.
Nearly a thousand years ago, a small stone church had stood upon this hill, taking the quiet outlook onto the sea as a holy sign of refuge. The community cherished it, went dutifully, and helped with its upkeep, it was their house of worship after all.
But then, one day, the harbingers came. Scores and scores of them landed on the church, creating a thatched roof of deep black feathers. None could get them to move. The priests led the community in prayer, asking them to leave, but they wouldn't move. Holy water was thrown upon them, but they wouldn't move. People went to beg and plead with the lady of the holy well to release them, to protect them, but the harbingers wouldn't move.
One day, as if the world had changed its mind, the birds fled, casting large shadows upon the ground as they flew away in a tangled mass that no one could bring to call a flock, so horrid was its shape. Relief flooded through the community and they rushed to their church, excited to take peace from their traditions once more.
The church looked a little different to them, but they weren't sure how. Perhaps they had just gotten used to the harbingers sitting atop it. But when they went inside, many nearly tripped upon entering, it was as if the door had somehow been lowered. They looked around the grounds and found that the dirt on the edge of the church was puckering up.
They didn't think much of it and continued to practice their prayer in their church as they always had. But every day, the church continued to sink. Soon, things began to stick up from the ground. At first it was just tricks and other things that had been buried and had now been caught on the sinking church, driving one end above the waves of grass and muck.
Then, one day, they saw it. At first it looked to be a white root, angling upward, but when they pulled at it it broke free of the ground. There, as clear as day to all who witnessed it, was a femur. Horrified, the community said a prayer for the lost soul and reburied the bone, thinking it belonged to some long ago forgotten man.
But it was only the beginning. Soon, dozens and then hundreds of bones broke through the ground surrounding the church. At first, the community tried to tell themselves that it couldn't be as many as they thought and surely the church would stop unearthing these people from their eternal rest.
The church did not stop sinking and the garden of bones grew more plentiful, more jagged, and more horrid.
The community knew that it had to act. They came together and decided to do the only thing they could think: lay the church to rest. They conducted a funeral for the church, each taking turns to throw dirt and a prayer over it as they smothered it in holy ground.
For a time, that seemed to keep evil at bay on the island, but now the church has risen.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
Yet something lay beneath the dead, something time had tried to forget, something the earth had tried to hide.
Nearly a thousand years ago, a small stone church had stood upon this hill, taking the quiet outlook onto the sea as a holy sign of refuge. The community cherished it, went dutifully, and helped with its upkeep, it was their house of worship after all.
But then, one day, the harbingers came. Scores and scores of them landed on the church, creating a thatched roof of deep black feathers. None could get them to move. The priests led the community in prayer, asking them to leave, but they wouldn't move. Holy water was thrown upon them, but they wouldn't move. People went to beg and plead with the lady of the holy well to release them, to protect them, but the harbingers wouldn't move.
One day, as if the world had changed its mind, the birds fled, casting large shadows upon the ground as they flew away in a tangled mass that no one could bring to call a flock, so horrid was its shape. Relief flooded through the community and they rushed to their church, excited to take peace from their traditions once more.
The church looked a little different to them, but they weren't sure how. Perhaps they had just gotten used to the harbingers sitting atop it. But when they went inside, many nearly tripped upon entering, it was as if the door had somehow been lowered. They looked around the grounds and found that the dirt on the edge of the church was puckering up.
They didn't think much of it and continued to practice their prayer in their church as they always had. But every day, the church continued to sink. Soon, things began to stick up from the ground. At first it was just tricks and other things that had been buried and had now been caught on the sinking church, driving one end above the waves of grass and muck.
Then, one day, they saw it. At first it looked to be a white root, angling upward, but when they pulled at it it broke free of the ground. There, as clear as day to all who witnessed it, was a femur. Horrified, the community said a prayer for the lost soul and reburied the bone, thinking it belonged to some long ago forgotten man.
But it was only the beginning. Soon, dozens and then hundreds of bones broke through the ground surrounding the church. At first, the community tried to tell themselves that it couldn't be as many as they thought and surely the church would stop unearthing these people from their eternal rest.
The church did not stop sinking and the garden of bones grew more plentiful, more jagged, and more horrid.
The community knew that it had to act. They came together and decided to do the only thing they could think: lay the church to rest. They conducted a funeral for the church, each taking turns to throw dirt and a prayer over it as they smothered it in holy ground.
For a time, that seemed to keep evil at bay on the island, but now the church has risen.
(Prompt by Kimisha Cassidy)
Comments
Post a Comment