The Timberwolves

I had a meeting with my boss today. He's a very nice man. He treats me really nicely, you know? Like, as if I'm actually there. He greeted me with a million dollar smile, shook my hand, and immediately asked if I wanted to go to lunch with him. He took me to some diner and though I was really awkward and not very conversational he didn't seem to mind.

I really like my boss.

He even gave me some information about that gang. They're known as the Timberwolves, and the city has had problems with them for years. Thing is though, they've become much more prominent very recently for whatever reason. He said they had been "provoked." I didn't understand what that meant, should have asked.

He said they're sort of like a bizarre mix between a cult and a gang. That they worshiped some Lovecraft bullshit or something. Explains the sacrifice, I guess.

He told me he really appreciated what I was doing. Said I was brave. Made me really happy.

I don't know what the Timberwolves are really about yet. But, to tell the truth... I am kind of curious.

Trembling

Last night, I heard a noise outside around 3 in the morning. Scuffling in the bushes, the fence behind the guardhouse shaking and rumbling and clanging, and then pebbles crackling. I froze in place... I was convinced they had finally come for me.

I was trembling in place, terrified. But, something came over me to get up, and look outside. So I did. I grabbed a flashlight, and I left the hut. I shone the light in a shaky manner against the immediate gravestones in front of me. Nothing.

I continued into the graveyard, searching. I was so scared. If something had popped out right then, I would have had a horrible heart attack. But nothing did.

Eventually, I found myself near the center of the graveyard.

"Hello? Anyone t-there!?"


I was on the verge of giving up when I saw the hooded man hiding behind the central structure; where the previous gravekeeper had been sacrificed. I shivered and felt myself freeze in place once again.

But the hooded man didn't attack. He ran. Ten seconds later I realized I had to chase him.

He ducked and dodged around graves and I attempted to follow. But, I lost him within the darkness of the graveyard. I searched for him the rest of the night, until morning came. I found no trace of him.

I must be more vigilant. 

Scared

I didn't really think of it before. I mean, I was so excited to finally find a job opening, and my mother yelled at me to jump on it,  but now I realize that... this is a little dangerous. Really dangerous. What if the gang comes back? What if they blast my brains all over the same gravestone? My boss assured my I'd be safe on the job, that nothing fishy would happen except maybe a few homeless stragglers, but... but that gang is still out there, and no one's been arrested regarding the last gravekeeper's fate.

I'm really nervous now. I keep looking over my shoulder, and making sure the door is locked, and closing the blinds. This is dangerous, really dangerous. I should quit. I should really quit.

But besides the terror, there's this other feeling out here that I can't seem to decipher... but also can't seem to want to quit feeling either. I like it out here. It's quiet. It's dangerous. But it's safe.

I'm an idiot.

Cover Up

I'm worried. I didn't really give it any thought before, but what if that gang shows up again? What do I do? What if they try and kill me?

They showed no mercy to the last gravekeeper. In fact, now that I've dug up some dirt on the killing, I've discovered that it wasn't some ordinary murder. I mean, no murders are ordinary, but... this killing wasn't random... but also. Well. I'll just cut to the chase.

He was a sacrifice.

It occured sometime around 4 in the morning, which is strange in of itself. I know it took place at 4, because the file I found indicated that one of the suveillance cameras picked up "suspicious activity" around that time. The gang members jumped the fence on the southeast side of the graveyard, and made their way around to where I'm sitting right now, what I call "the gravekeeper's hut."

They barged in on the poor gravekeeper, who was probably sleeping on the job, considering the blanket and pillow found in the hut. In his startled daze, they grabbed him, pulled him from the hut, and dragged him to the center of the graveyard. Once there, they tied him to the giant memorial gravestone, which belonged to the found of the Lonely Hearts, the organzation that owns the graveyard.

And then they poured gasoline all over the poor fucker and lit him up, right against the gravestone. On the other side of the stone, there was graffitti.

It read: "Embrace the Archangel." And then some other strange design that I can't really identify in the foggy picture that's in the file. They've replaced the gravestone now, so I can't check.

The local news reported this killing as a somewhat random shooting, when in reality, it's much more disturbing than that. This is more in line with cults, than with gangs. It seems as if this was some type of spritual killing, or something....

But. You know...

Why did they cover this up in the first place?

The Inherent Creepiness

I get through most nights at the cemetery alright. I find ways of entertaining myself. Most nights, I write in short, spontaneous bursts, when I'm not surveying the graveyard. Sometimes, I watch a few late night shows. I have a soft spot for Jimmy Fallon especially.

It helps take me away from the darkness of the cemetery. Without any entertainment, I don't know how I'd survive out here. Umm, I mean, on the one hand, I'm away from people. That's good, that's great, that's grand. But on the other.. it kind of gets scary here?

It is a cemetery, so I guess I should have been prepared for that when I signed up for the job. But in those moments where I'm surveying the cemetery, making sure everything is fine, I'm just so jumpy and every shadow looks like it's some sort of monster from beyond and

It makes me nervous. Really nervous. Much more nervous than I need to be.

Besides from the inherent creepiness... I think I like it.

Alone

This is my schedule.

I get up at or around 1 in the afternoon. I shower and get dressed, then I usually either go over to my mother's and help around her house, or I stay home and watch television. Sometimes I go out into town and run errands. Most of the time I'm home watching Scrubs reruns.

Every day, I leave at 4:30 and I'm at the cemetery by 5:10. I unlock the guardhouse, sift through my supplies, and prepare to keep watch over the graveyard. Usually, I bring a quick dinner with me.

And then my shift begins. I'm alone, and by alone I mean completely, utterly alone, from 6:00 at night to 6:00 in the morning. It's my sanctuary.

Formal Introduction

I haven't really formally introduced myself yet, have I? I'm um sorry about that. My names Bill. Bill Reather. Interesting name, huh? I think my mother was cruelly prophetic, because I happen to have asthma.

Besides the name, nothing else about me is interesting. I'm just a collegiate dropout, left behind by everyone else. And I am stuck in suburban New Jersey. But that's alright. I'm comfortable this way, at least.

I don't know what else to say. What else could I say about me?

It's getting late here. It's so cold here.