Episode Details

Good evening, it's Spooky Boo coming to you from the lighthouse in Sandcastle--California's hardest to find town. If you do make it out here somehow, be sure to stay away from the vampires and cryptids or they might be hungry for dinner and they love to find people from out of town to get a new taste of lands far away.Tonight I have for you the first in a part of a series of 7 episodes of the story Hallowed Ground by The Vesper's Bell. I'm sure you'll love these stories just like all of the stories from this amazing author. This will be a Halloween treat for all of us!A couple of announcements before I begin the story tonight: I will be on Creature Features this Saturday night, October 16th. Be sure to tune in to watch on YouTube or KOFY TV20. And then I'd like you to visit the Kickstarter Campaign started by cult horror director Jackie Kong. She's coming out with a new comic series line from Kong Comics called "Spend the Night" which I'm sure that you'll enjoy! Get more info at www.jackiekongdirector.comNow let's begin...Hallowed Ground Part 1by The Vesper's BellI don’t think there’s anything more beautiful than a cemetery in the Fall, though I love cemeteries no matter the season.There’s normally an abundance of majestically tall trees, more than you typically find in a public park, but not so many that they obstruct your view, like in the woods. At the peak of Autumn, you’re treated to a panoramic vista of vibrantly coloured foliage dangling from the branches and blanketing the ground, rustling in the wind and crunching underfoot. The gravestones themselves have an apothic allure to them, ruggedly cut slabs of polished slate or granite or marble, their dark bodies glistening ever so slightly in the dappled sunlight, meticulously arranged row by row in solemn respect to those they stand in memorial to.What I love the most though is the serenity, the tranquillity, the quiet. Aside from the occasional funeral, they’re often entirely empty of visitors, and virtually never have more than a few at a time. The memento mori of rotting corpses only six feet underground must sour most people on the otherwise gorgeous landscaping. Not me though. I guess I’m something of a misanthropic loner to seek out solitude in the confines of a graveyard, but reminders of mortality don’t bother me. It’s comforting, if anything, that we set aside such charming sanctuaries for the dead.It was on the first day of October 2018 that I came across a new cemetery, one I had never been to before or even knew existed. I was taking a scenic route home along the country sideroads to admire the Fall landscape when I spotted the weathered gravestones up ahead. Pleasantly surprised at my discovery, I turned in without a second thought. The corroded metal arch over the gates only read ‘cemetery’. If the sign had ever borne a name, those letters had long since rusted away.It wasn’t a large cemetery, maybe a little over a hundred yards across by a couple hundred long with a single looping gravel path, so I parked my car and explored it on foot. I was immediately enthralled by its pristine silence. I couldn’t hear even the most distant sign of human activity. The only noises were the cawing of crows, the scampering of small animals, and the wind blowing through the trees. The towering oaks and maples that populated the graveyard were stunningly dressed in their Fall colours beneath the sombre grey sky, but the gravestones themselves were a different story. None of them were recent, and most were so worn they couldn’t even be read anymore. There were only two structures still standing upon the grounds; the dilapidated remains of a maintenance shed and a small, marble mausoleum, my entrance barred by an iron gate. I walked the entire length of the cemetery, searching for any sign of recent activity. Plant overgrowth was limited, but that looked more like the wo