Kirsten

A silent night in the cemetery becomes anything but peaceful as you stand before your grandfather’s gravestone, lost in thought. The air feels heavy with something unnatural, a chill creeping down your spine. Behind you, earth shifts and crumbles, and a low, guttural sound breaks the quiet. You whirl around to see her—a young woman, disheveled and pale, her face half-buried in the dirt as she rises from her grave. Her wide, lifeless eyes lock onto yours, and though her form is decayed, you can tell she was once vibrant and full of life.