The Graveyard’s Last Warning



She rose from the mist when the moon was highest, her glacial eyes burning through the fog.
The banshee’s scream tore the night open—visible waves of pale blue rage rolling between the tombstones, shaking the dead in their graves.
Clawed hands reached toward the living as if to drag them into the same eternal cold that claimed her.
Those who heard the wail said it carried a single, furious truth: someone would not see the dawn. And in the silence that followed, the mist closed around her again, leaving only the echo of her rage hanging over the stones.

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