Strange Behavior

Chapter Four

Hannah's life had officially taken a turn for the strange. Not only did she believe everything Tyler told her about Aunt Vivian, but now she was outside in the freezing cold hiding behind a gravestone in the town cemetery, waiting for her aunt to make an appearance. The tiny sliver of moon above shone enough light so she could make out the name on the gravestone—Mortimer. For a moment she wondered who he had been.

"I really need to get home and work on that paper that's due tomorrow," Hannah murmured, shivering when a chilly breeze swept over her. The wind rustled the tall trees that surrounded the cemetery, the dried leaves rattling in the otherwise quiet, cold night. There was no other movement, no other sound, not even a car passing on the street nearby.

It was utterly, deathly silent.

"She'll be here soon." Tyler rested his hand on her shoulder. It was big, warm and comforting and she savored the sensation of him touching her. "Trust me."

Hannah wanted to trust him, but she was still unsure. "Yeah, but when she gets here, then what will we do?" She really hoped he had a plan because she sure didn't.

He didn't answer her question, though he did squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. "Shhh. There she is."

She jerked her head in the same direction as he looked, squinting against the darkness of the night. The moon was only a crescent high in the sky, casting its weak silvery glow across the gentle grassy slopes of the cemetery. She couldn't make out anything at first, thought maybe Tyler was seeing things, but then there was a bit of movement.

Aunt Vivian suddenly came into view.

Hannah froze, stunned. Her aunt was dressed in black, a large cape swirling about her, and a hood covering her head. Clutched in one hand was a large shovel, and she used it as a sort of cane as she walked past the headstones. She seemed to be headed somewhere with purpose, her steps determined.

Sure enough, she was going straight toward a freshly dug grave. Aunt Vivian stopped and thrust her shovel into the pile of dirt, standing there as if she needed to take a breath. Hannah watched, her own breath lodged in her throat, her lungs aching, her entire body ice cold.

When her aunt started to dig, she wanted to cry. What was Aunt Vivian doing? Why would she do such a morbid thing? It was wrong in so many ways. But worst of all, it was stealing.

Hannah knew she needed to report her aunt to the police, to her parents, to someone. Her stomach roiled with nausea and she pressed her lips together. She didn't want to do it, didn't want to tell on her aunt. Was she having a bad dream? A nightmare? God, she wished.

But no, it was all terribly real.

Tyler was suddenly beside her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and hauling her into his lap. "Don't cry," he whispered, and she realized there were tears already streaming down her face.

That he would offer such sweet comfort practically broke her.

She clung to him for a moment and then turned, unable to stop herself from watching her aunt. Even though it disgusted her, she had to see what she was doing with her own eyes.

Dirt flew over Aunt Vivian's head as she dug, her movements frenzied. Considering her age, she was moving quickly, a woman with a purpose. After long minutes, she threw the shovel down on the ground next to the gravesite and jumped down into the pit, only her head visible and Hannah knew she was opening the casket and removing the jewelry off the corpse.

A shudder moved through her. She thought she might be sick.

Tyler squeezed her close, resting his chin against her forehead. "What should we do?" he murmured.

"I don't know," she whispered. It was an honest answer. She hadn't the first clue how she should go about this. Confront her?

Hell no. That wouldn't go over well.

"I think I should tell my parents first. Maybe—maybe they could help her." Hannah shook her head, hating the confusion that swamped her. "I'm not sure how to go about this. I don't think they'll even believe me. It's all so crazy."

"I'll go with you when you tell them. We'll go now. Come on." He gave her a gentle push and she climbed off his lap, glancing back at him in question. When he stood, she did too, both of them ducking when they caught sight of Aunt Vivian's head peeking over the edge of the grave.

Hannah turned to meet Tyler's gaze, her heart pounding. "Do you think she saw us?"

He shook his head, peering over the gravestone. "No way."

"Who's out there?" Aunt Vivian's voice rang across the dark cemetery and Hannah squeezed her eyes shut, her entire body trembling with fear.

This was so not the way she thought it would go down. A little cry escaped her and she clamped her lips shut.

"Sshh," Tyler shushed her, grabbing for her hand. "Don't answer her."

"I know you're out there." Her aunt sounded unsure, worried. "Show your face!"

A rumble moved through the entire cemetery, like thunder and Hannah fell back on her butt, emitting a soft ow when she made contact with the hard, damp ground.

"I heard you. I know you're out there," Aunt Vivian called. "Show your faces, you cowards."

Another rumble sounded, this one so strong the ground vibrated and the trees shook, the leaves rattling their distress. Tyler met Hannah's gaze, his eyes wide and full of worry. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," Hannah squeaked.

The gravestone they hid behind started to shift and they both leapt back as if struck by a snake. All of the gravestones rattled and shook, the ground shifting beneath them like waves in the ocean.

"Let's get out of here," Tyler yelled, jerking her to her feet. "Just run, Hannah! RUN!"

She did, running as fast as she could, though she couldn't help but look back over her shoulder. Her aunt had climbed out of the grave, a black bag clutched to her chest, her gnarled hand rising to the sky. The entire cemetery rattled and shook, and a strange, thick blue fog rolled in from nowhere, slowly obscuring Aunt Vivian from view until she was completely swallowed up.

Until all that was left was the sound of her blood curling screams.