The Graveyard Bride

It was supposed to be a joke
A simple dare among friends
Spend one hour in the old graveyard at the edge of town

Harith laughed as he accepted the challenge
It was just a graveyard after all
Dead people don't talk
Right

His friends dropped him at the broken gate
It creaked as he pushed it open
The air inside was colder
Still
Too still

Graves stood like silent statues
Old
Cracked
Some with names rubbed off by time

Harith switched on his flashlight
Its beam shaky but strong
He walked deeper in
Passing trees that whispered with the wind

He tried to stay calm
Even whistled
But the sound died quickly
Like the graveyard swallowed it

Half an hour passed
Silence
Just silence

Then
He heard it

A whisper
A woman’s voice
Calling his name

Harith

He froze
Turned around
No one

Harith

Again
Closer this time

His flashlight flickered
And died

Panic rose in his chest
He pulled out his phone
No signal

Then he saw her

Standing between two graves
A woman
Dressed in white
Long black hair
Head slightly tilted

She was beautiful
Too beautiful
Her eyes lowered
Her feet bare
But not touching the ground

Who are you
He asked
His voice barely a whisper

She smiled
Soft
Sad

I have waited for you Harith
I have watched you
Since you were a child

His heart pounded
He stepped back
But couldn’t move far

This must be a prank
A setup

No
This was something else

She took a step forward
Still not touching the earth

I am the bride of the graveyard
She said
You are mine
You have always been mine

Harith tried to run
But the paths twisted
No gate
No way out

She was in front of him
Then behind him
Then beside him

He screamed
But the wind swallowed it

She came closer
Her face changed
Eyes turned black
Skin pale and cracked
Her mouth stretched into a grin
Too wide
Too dark

You cannot leave
She whispered
Your place is ready

She pointed to a grave
Fresh
But already carved with his name

Harith bin Bashir

He fell to his knees
Shaking
Begging
Crying

But the grave opened

And darkness pulled him in


---

Morning came
His friends returned
Laughing
Calling his name

No answer

They found the flashlight
And his phone
Lying near an open grave

A grave that wasn’t there yesterday

They read the name
Their laughter faded

Harith bin Bashir

He went in to win a bet
But never returned

And as they stood there
The wind whispered
Soft
And chilling

Harith