The Gravedigger

A (folk) horror flash fiction. A proper weird one.

Oh, the horror! Kathrine's written another surprise horror flash fiction! I got inspired by a fellow Substacker. So, here goes…

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The Gravedigger

Every small town has a tale or two the folks tell on dark autumn evenings to amuse themselves, or to tease the gullible minds of children. This ain’t one of them. The story of The Gravedigger is as true as it can be. So, huddle up and let me tell you the grim tale of Caleb Jones, and his dark fate.

They say on dark autumn nights one could hear the sound of digging coming from the graveyard. First the folks laughed it off; probably them kids messin’ round! But the next morning no traces of diggin’ they found. The Sheriff came round at night. When he heard the digging the hair on his neck stood up. The Sheriff was in luck, no need to look further. The sound came from ol’ Caleb Jones’ grave…

Now, Caleb Jones was a mean man, no one could stand. After the death sentence he was hanged. All the townsmen knew the taste of his fists, not a fight he missed. He’d run his big mouth, in every single thing he found fault. His anger was known far and wide, he never tried to hide his temper, not even to save his own life.

But the day came when he met the witch of the town. Now, everyone knew she’s a vengeful whore, men who crossed her path lived no more. Caleb didn’t care. He’d stare at her curves shamelessly, sayin’,

“The likes of you should be burned. You’re a whore and a witch, come here, serve me, you bitch!”

To which she smirked amused.

“You must be confused. I’ll let you escape your dark fate before it’s too late.”

Sadly, Caleb wouldn’t wait for his anger to pass. He ran up to the lass, and wacked her face.

“To hit a lady! What a disgrace! Caleb Jones, we’ve had enough of you!” The Sheriff locked him up good. His sentence was grim, still proudly he stood on the gallows, snickering at the black-eyed witch. A dark smile the witch gave.

“Caleb Jones, you dug your own grave!”

“I’ll keep diggin’ every night, because I know I was right!” He yelled back. The gallows clacked; his body twitched.

“You’re a cursed deadman,” said the witch.

And so, it was…every night Caleb Jones digs his own grave. From midnight to the first light of day. Sometimes he growls, sometimes he cries and wails; it ain’t easy, to never find peace, forever digging your own grave!

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Thank you for reading this little morsel of horror! If you enjoy my writing, maybe you might like my new book? I know you must be fed up with me promoting it, but I’M JUST SO HAPPY I HAVE MY FIRST BOOK PUBLISHED! I think it’s petty good too, it’s professionally edited (by a real pro!). If you want to support me, you can buy my book instead of KOFI or other kind of tipping thing. It would mean the world to me. Really really. You can buy it HERE .