RITUAL IN THE CEMETERY

The Central Cemetery was deserted, steeped in a disturbing stillness. Tombstones aligned in a maze of shapes and shadows, and the air was thick with humidity, as though time had stood still there. Santiago, Laura, and Martín walked in silence, following the faint glow of their flashlight.

The cobblestone path led them to a right turn. Ahead, the crypt they were searching for came into view, but beyond it, a reddish glow flickered faintly among broken statues and cracked mausoleums. Martín, with a nervous smile, pointed his flashlight toward the glow.

—That’s not normal. No one should be here at this hour. —He said, frowning.

Santiago didn’t respond. He stared at the glow with a strange feeling in his chest, as if something were watching them. The mist covered the ground, coiling around their ankles.

—Let’s take a look. —Martín said, not waiting for a reply as he moved toward the light.

Laura hesitated but eventually followed.

As they drew closer, the air grew denser, as if the very space around them were pressing in. The ground crunched beneath their feet, as if the stones and dust protested their presence. The smell, a mix of burnt wax and something acrid, invaded their senses.

—It smells like sulfur… and burnt flesh. —Santiago said, covering his nose and mouth.

When they reached the clearing, they found a small space surrounded by weathered mausoleums. In the center, a circle drawn with a dark, viscous liquid seemed to shimmer under the light of black candles arranged around it. The flames flickered, but the icy breeze didn’t extinguish them. At the circle's center, a bundle covered by a black cloth moved faintly.

—What… what is this? —Laura asked, her voice trembling.

Santiago touched Martín’s shoulder, but a shiver ran through his body when he noticed the ground beneath their feet vibrating faintly, as if something were moving beneath it.

Without thinking, Martín crouched and picked up one of the candles. The melted wax dripped onto his hand, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain. Strangely, instead of cooling, the wax floated in the air before reaching the ground.

—This… can’t be real. —Santiago murmured, staring at the candle.

Laura looked around, and something strange happened. A figure emerged from the shadows and light, walking slowly among the broken statues. Its silhouette seemed tangible, but when Laura tried to point it out, the figure vanished as if it had never been there.

A crunch broke the silence, as if the tombstones were shifting underground. The circle began to glow more intensely, and the bundle at the center writhed, as if something were being pulled from within.

Santiago instinctively stepped back. The wind blew fiercely, intensifying the cold, and the mist thickened around them. He looked at Laura, but she was fixated on the circle, her pupils dilated.

—Laura, let’s go! —Santiago shouted, but the wind carried his voice away.

Laura didn’t react. She stood frozen, as if something had trapped her. A thread of gray smoke began to rise from the circle, spiraling as though feeding on the air itself.

Martín took another step forward. He picked up a second candle and let the molten wax drip onto the bundle at the center.

—No, Martín! —Santiago shouted, running toward him.

At that moment, the wind ceased, and a dark fissure seemed to open in the sky. The bundle in the circle stretched, and dark figures emerged from the ground, clawing at the circle’s edge. Martín, drawn by an invisible force, stepped closer to the center.

The black cloth covering the bundle lifted and vanished, revealing a thin figure whose eyes glowed an intense red. The creature, unhuman in appearance, fixed its gaze on Martín. Instantly, a shadow coiled around his body, pulling him slowly into the ground.

Santiago, his heart pounding, ran to Laura, grabbed her hand, and pulled her away. The air remained thick, and their legs barely responded.

Laura and Santiago ran through the labyrinth of mausoleums and tombstones, the echo of their footsteps resonating through the mist. The darkness seemed to close in around them, and an unnatural cold clung to their skin. From the shadows, hooded figures began to emerge slowly, advancing with synchronized and silent movements.

—Over there! —Santiago shouted, pointing to a low wall at the end of a narrow path.

Laura could barely breathe but nodded and kept running. Behind them, the figures quickened their pace, their cloaks brushing the ground with a disquieting sound. Murmurs in an unrecognizable language filled the air, blending with the sound of hurried footsteps.

Suddenly, the figures stopped. Santiago turned and saw Martín standing in their midst.

—Martín! —Laura cried, halting in her tracks.

Martín raised a hand, signaling them to keep going. His face was hidden in shadow, but his stance was firm.

—Don’t stop, —he said in a low voice, barely audible over the murmurs—, run!

Santiago hesitated but, seeing the hooded figures beginning to surround Martín, pulled Laura toward the wall. They reached it, gasping for breath, the cold biting into their bones.