*Trigger warning: Death*

Amber leaves fell like dirty snow, littering the meticulously manicured lawn of Chapel Hill cemetery. Overhead, a soft gray blanket of clouds obscured the midmorning autumn sun. In a far corner of the old cemetery, a small gathering of mourners stood motionless around a fresh grave carved from dark soil as a priest droned on in monotone remembrance.

—-

“Mommy…” Daniel whispered slowly, holding back a sniffle. “When is daddy coming back?” He refused to look up at her, choosing instead to watch the polished mahogany casket sink into the dark pit cut into earth. He knew, even if he didn’t quite understand, that this was the last time he would see his father and his eyes couldn’t pull away. 

His mother looked down at him with her arm draped over his shoulder, her fingers squeezing him tightly in silent response to his question. Tears stained her cheeks as she watched him and though she desperately wished for an answer that would bring a smile back to his little face, all that she could manage was a trembling sigh.

—-

With the burial ceremony completed, Daniel found himself alone, standing at the edge of his father’s grave. His mother stood not far away, conversing quietly with the last few attendees, all of whom took their turns casting him sorrowful glances. He ignored them all, unable to look away from the dark box that contained his father.

His sniffling had long since faded away. The crusted tears that had dried on his reddened cheeks added to the biting chill of the wind that cut across the cemetery. He felt mesmerized by the coffin, as though if he stared at it hard enough, long enough, it would disappear and leave his father standing in its place. The cold of late fall and the hushed conversations around him were like a distant memory, faded and nearly invisible.

“It’s not fair.” The words barely held enough energy to pass his lips, too faint to be caught by any nearby ears.

‘Daniel.’

The voice was hardly louder than the wind, with a timber deeper than anything he’d ever heard. It grabbed hold of his attention instantly, despite his dire need to stand and look down upon the coffin as long as he could. Daniel blinked hard. Once. Twice. His head gradually lifted upwards, his eyes turning westward, from the grave towards a grouping of large oak trees near the cemetery boundary.

A person stood in the shadow of the largest tree. A man, his face shrouded in black, waving a hand and beckoning him over. Daniel squinted his eyes in confusion. He glanced quickly towards his mother, who was lost in somber conversation and apparently oblivious towards him for the moment. With a half-hearted shrug, he headed in the opposite direction, towards the stranger hidden in near darkness.

Even as Daniel closed in on the stranger, his face remained hidden, cloaked by a shadow that seemed to be of substance, thick and muddy. Dead leaves crunched underfoot while he walked. It was the only sound he could hear as he left his mother further behind.

“Ah, Daniel. I’ve been waiting for you.”

The voice that sunk into his ears felt disconnected, coming from all around rather than the tall, lanky man that now stooped over him beneath the swaying oak.

“Me? You’ve been… waiting?” Daniel stammered, suddenly fearful of the strange man and his even stranger voice.

“Yes.”

The tall stranger stood straighter, looming ominously as he took a step towards Daniel. His face broke the veil of shadow, and a crooked smile greeted him.

“Your father wishes to speak with you again.”

Daniel’s heart leaped in his chest. “He….. he does?” All sense of fear and hesitation fled from his mind. If he could talk to his father again….

“Here, boy. Just take this home and read it. All your questions will be answered.”

The man raised his hand, offering a small, dusty Book between wrinkled fingers. Daniel’s eyes grew wide, drawn to the velvety black cover of the book. He reached forward and grabbed it quickly, without even a moment to think.

“Daniel! Come back here! It’s time to go home!”

Daniel turned his head, looking back to his mother. She stood, arm in arm with his aunt Jess, waving him over.

“Thanks. But mister…” Daniel nearly choked when he turned back to thank the stranger, realizing he now stood alone underneath the massive oak tree. His head spun left and right as he looked around, but found no one nearby. No trace of the tall man that had handed him the book.

The book. 

His small fingers clasped its leather bound cover tightly and he quickly tucked it inside his jacket before turning back towards his mother.

—-

The ride home was short, but for Daniel it had lasted an eternity. His eyes had been fixed on the dreary scenery that passed outside the car window, but he saw none of it. All he could think of was the book concealed against his chest. And the strange man that had given it to him. And his father. Would he really get to speak to him again? How was this old book going to help him?

As his mother pulled the car into the gravel driveway, the unmistakable sound of pebbles crunching beneath tires snapped him from his heady reverie. Daniel had the distinct impression his mother had been trying to speak to him as she stopped the car.

“Hmm?” He managed a hurried reply to an unknown question even as he was fiddling with his seatbelt and the chrome plated door handle.

“Daniel…” She said softly, turning to look back at him. Her puffy eyes were misting once more, but a quick and harsh breath in seemed to steady her nerves for a few moments longer. “I’ll have dinner ready at five. Your auntie Jess will be joining us for the evening, if that’s ok with you of course.”

“Oh yeah, sure. That’s good mom.” He had already opened the door and was halfway out of the car when he called out his response. “I just want to go to my room now. I’m really tired.” His sneakers kicked up tiny grey and white pebbles as he ran towards the side door of their modest two story home.

—-

Daniel huffed in excited and quick breaths when he jogged up the last few stairs that led to his room. Old floorboards creaked and groaned in protest, flexing underfoot as he dashed into his room and threw the door closed.

Though the chill from biting cold outside had attempted to follow his path through the house and into his room, he felt strangely warm. As though a soft, snug blanket had been wrapped around his chest. Daniel strode towards his bed, reaching between the buttons of his jacket to grab ahold of the mysterious book once more, only to find the textured leather hot to the touch.

Gripping it with only his index finger and thumb, he swiftly pulled the old book free and tossed it onto his bed. He glanced wide-eyed down to his hand, still feeling the heat on his fingertips. 

‘Daniel.’

The sudden sound of his name being called from nowhere startled him. He shook visibly, horrifyingly, wondering if the strange man at the cemetery had followed him home. Had somehow hidden away in his room.

‘Come, boy. Open the book. Speak with me..’

He squinted at the voice, edging closer to his bed. To the old book. That voice…

It sounded like…just like…his father.

Without even a second’s hesitation he rushed forward, laying his hand upon the warm leather. His small fingers grabbed the front cover and flung it open.

Darkness

He was in darkness. Surrounded by it. Encompassed by it. Buried in it.

His father’s face appeared before him, floating alone in a vast sea of nothing. Daniel attempted to look around, to see where he was. But his room was gone. The world was gone. Even his own body was swallowed whole by the darkness. Only his father’s face existed.

‘Daniel. I have been waiting for you. I have been waiting for you for a very long time.’

Waiting for him? But how? He tried to speak, to ask his father how, or why. His voice failed him however. Even his own voice seemed to have vanished into the abyss. None of this made any sense.

‘Do not worry, boy. You will understand soon enough. There is much to see.’

The familiar visage of his father wavered and faded away, replaced by the crooked and distinctly inhuman face of the stranger from the cemetery.

‘You will need to come with me now, boy. There is much work to be done.’

—-

“Daniel? Daniel?” His mother carefully opened the door to his bedroom, peeking inside with raw and bloodshot eyes. She looked across the room, from his bed to his desk to a tall wardrobe that stood opposite the door. “Daniel??” She called out in a sudden panic. There was no response from the empty room. Only silence, cold, and charred husk on the floor, barely recognizable as a small book.