Witching Hour

         A deep mist curled around the bottom of the grave, snaking it's way forward, upward. The graveyard looked mysterious, eerie. The only light came from the harsh glare of the full moon, shining a pale white where it fell.
         Kayleigh shrugged closer in her jumper, looking for warmth, and comfort. She found none. She regretted taking the stupid dare. Regretted being stuck in the middle of the cemetery, waiting for the clock to chime.
         It had all seemed so stupid, frivolous back in the safety of Amy's home. They had been drinking of course, but not enough to be drunk, just merry. And as they talked and chatted the myth of the ghost that haunted the graveyard arose. Kayleigh had been hearing that story since she was little, in various forms. That's all it was, a story. But out there, in the graveyard as she stood alone waiting for the clock to chime one, it felt like to much more.
         She only had a minute left to wait. She could see the clock face in the tower of the church lit dimly. She knew it was accurate.
         In the middle of the graveyard she felt vulnerable, unsafe. A twig snapped behind her. She whirled but saw nothing.
         It must have been an animal.
         Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving.
         She felt her stomach writhe as the wave of panic threatened to overwhelm her senses.
         Stop it, she scolded herself. Nothing is going to happen.
         Her eyes focused on the clock.
         Her voice echoed in her head sounding confident, sure. Her body felt different. Her stomach still twisted in knots, threatening nausea. Her muscles ached as adrenaline coursed through her body in anticipation. Her feet tingled. She wanted to run.
         Kayleigh watched as if in slow motion, the minute hand of the clock began to slide gently forward until it stopped. The bell within the tower began to chime, a low reverberating sound echoing through the silent night.
         One chime. It died off as soon as it began until the hum faded out and the night was silent once more.
         Kayleigh's breath escaped in a whoosh of relief.
         That's it, witching hour.
         She didn't know what she had expected, but she didn't expect nothing.
         The tension left her body, muscles relaxing.
         Time to show them they were wrong, she thought. They didn't think she would do the dare. Kayleigh had always been a coward. But she had done it.
         With light steps Kayleigh strode to the gates of the cemetery, feeling confident. Happy even.
         Turning with one last glance at the graveyard she began to stride in the direction of her friend's house and ran smack bang into someone. She stumbled, managing to keep her balance and looked up to apologise.
         The thing before her was hideous. A ghoul masked in a man's figure. It's face was sickly-white, the features small and stern. It's eyes were lidless, black pits of tar which bored into her soul. Her periphery vision saw that it was a tall thin creature with clawed fingers and rotting skin.
         The ear-splitting sound of the screech coming from the creature drowned out her own scream. It lunged, mouth wide.