The Haunting Hour (Gilbert/Open)

[Gilbert Fredrick Beilschmidt]

There were many old stories that floated around the air of the town if one just opened there ears to it. Haunted buildings, occurrences with unknown reasoning, anything odd or that had a potential ring of supernatural and the occult to it always found folks willing to listen. While Gilbert wasn't usually such a person, he was today. His boss had called earlier and he was in dire straights. He needed a story or he would be a memory haunting the halls of the office. 

This story that had caught his attention was one such dark tale, one that carried much foreboding with it. Or at least that was the way he was planning on writing the tale for his story. One journalists overnight stay in the haunted cemetery. From the amount on of paranormal shows on the television and the amount of webpages he had see covering such topics, people were obsessed with the afterlife and how the departed could affect the living. Gilbert had to admit that it held a slight fascination for him as well, but it wasn't an all consuming obsession. Sure he was interested in it, but he was interested in a lot of things. Though he was probably biased on the matter since he didn't even call his collecting habit an obsession even though most of his own small apartment had a stuffed animal in some weird spots.  

  Obsessions or not, this was something that needed to be investigated, and he was going to give the people what they wanted. Sneaking in through the front gates of the cemetery wasn't hard, what was hard was making sure passing motorists didn't see him and report him for trespassing. Walking by each grave, Gilbert only paid slight attention to the names, not really committing them to memory as there was no reason for it, though he did wonder how they might have died; if they had come to an untimely end, or if it was a natural end to there lives?


Walking past a tree, he couldn't help but to look up at the branches. Swaying back and forth, black against an even darker background, the shadows seemed to call out to each other through the creaking of the moving bark, whispering to any that would listen of lives long since past, horrid tales of despair and murder that lingered on for any that might see. Shivering with the chill that he gave himself with such dark thoughts, Gilbert made his way to the center of the graveyard and set up camp, waiting for midnight to strike and for the ghosts to appear to him. It was the witching hour after all, and that's when the most supernatural things would happen. He wanted to be front seat and have himself the story of a lifetime.

[Deleted]

Why had Alfred agreed to this? It wasn't that he minded cemeteries. Cemeteries were fine in the daytime. Cemeteries at night, on the other hand, gave him the heebie-jeebies. He had to go on a windy night, of course. It couldn't be a nice calm night when the breeze wasn't blowing things around and generating unwanted noise. Nope, it just had to be windy. Who cared if someone was trespassing on this property? More than likely it was some teenager dared to spend the night in the cemetery by some friends. So long as they didn't vandalize any graves or go digging up any dead bodies, it wasn't as though they were causing any harm.

It was just the sort of thing he and his friends would have gotten into in high school. Why couldn't the 'good samaritan' that called let them be? It certainly beat sending Alfred out to investigate and jump every time he heard the sound of branches moving in the wind. It wasn't just his own jumpiness that frustrated him, but the fact that he wasn't finding anything to back up the complaint. He'd be giving someone a piece of his mind if he was sent out here for nothing. Shortly after this thought passed through his mind, Alfred caught a shadow in the moonlight. His heart immediately skipped a beat. This was most likely the 'intruder' reported earlier, but Alfred's imagination started to get carried away.

What if the intruder wasn't human at all but some sort of monster? Alfred moved closer, motivated by curiosity, yet terrified by the beasts in his own imagination. As he moved closer, he was able to make out a more humanoid figure...he let out an audible sigh of relief when he realized that he wasn't sneaking up on a monster at all. "Yo, what are you doing out here this late at night? You do realize this place is closed at this time, right?" Though other than being in the cemetery after it was closed, he didn't look like he was doing anything.

[Gilbert Fredrick Beilschmidt]

Gilbert hated silence, hated it with a passion. It was part of the reason why he talked so much, always trying to keep the conversation flowing. Even when working, he was either talking to himself or there was music playing. There wasn’t real reason for him to hate the lack of constant sound, he just did. He chalked it up to being an odd personality quirk of his. Even with the oddity, he was forced to listen to stillness tonight. Well, not completely, for the wind rattled the trees as it whistled through them; perhaps heralding an oncoming storm that would be there by morning. The bark of the branches scratched together, irritating his nerves, but still he listened. There was a story here, he just had to find it.

Settling down beneath a tree, he pulled a blanket out of the pack he brought and wrapped himself in it, trying to fight off the chill of the wind every time it circled past him. His notepad set beside him, waiting to be picked up and a story to unfold between its pages. With a sigh, Gilbert looked around, silently apologizing to those that still roamed here. He meant no disrespect, but if one of them wanted their story known, he was there. Starting to think of the tales he could be shown or the multiple ways he they could show themselves, Gilbert had tuned out, preferring his own imagination at this point in time. It was active enough or present him with multiple ways it could go. Unfortunately it distracted him from the here and now.

"Yo, what are you doing out here this late at night? You do realize this place is closed at this time, right?"

Jumping where he set, a screech that Gilbert would deny later erupted from his throat as his eyes snapped open, he could only stare at the figure before him. A blob shape configured itself into a friendly looking man with blood hair was standing before him, looking like he just wanted to help the poor soul who had wandered in. Finally realizing there was a question to be answered; he only grinned and rooted through his bag. Pulling out his press ID, he showed it to the man.

"Been doing some research on this place and now the live interview, so to speak. I’m trying to figure out if the place is haunted or not. I don't intend to cause damage and I ain't bothering anyone. How about joining me for a bit, its too quite here for my taste."

Lifting the blanket up, he offered the man room under it to get comfortable; would be good to have company after all.

[Deleted]

Alfred too had difficulty dealing with silence. It was one thing when he was trying to sleep, but entirely different during the daytime - and during the night on occasions like this. The relative silence made it so that every odd noise Alfred did hear made him jump. He wouldn't have to worry if he was talking with someone. His mind would be on the conversation rather than every little noise that he overheard as he was walking. This was part of the reason he was relieved when he saw that there was someone else in the cemetery. No matter how this interaction went, it was a distraction from the disconcerting bumps and cracks in the night that surrounded him before this encounter.

The 'someone else' in the cemetery was presumably the one reported in the call (unless there were three roaming around the cemetery now, in which case the cemetery really needed better security). He wasn't causing any issues though. He even had a press ID to backup his story. Alfred found himself annoyed with the caller who reported the suspicious activity in the first place. Sure, the cemetery was technically closed to the public at night, which meant that Gilbert was technically trespassing, but Alfred didn't see the point of bringing the police into it unless the man was doing something particularly harmful. This wasn't even worth a ticket in Alfred's book. A warning not to come during odd hours again, perhaps, but that was it. No harm no foul. "You looking for anything in particular?"

Then Gilbert invited Alfred to stay with him. The other was trying to determine whether the cemetery was haunted or not. Despite the fact that the idea of a haunted cemetery gave him chills, it did give him something to do other than walk around trying to find something to do. He even had an excuse - He could say that he was observing Gilbert. He had to make sure Gilbert didn't cause any trouble, after all! "Sure, why not?" Alfred grinned before settling next to Gilbert. "Alfred, by the way," He introduced himself.

[Gilbert Fredrick Beilschmidt]

“Well Alfred, it’s good to meet you. Would have been better if it wasn’t in such a somber place, but, hey, these things happen.”

He could only shrug with that, it was a pretty bad place to be making friends, but at least it worked. Plus he had a feeling this man was supposed to kick him out of there, but then he wouldn’t get his story. This man seemed reasonable though, and as long as he didn’t make any stupid remarks or actions, he should be good. Plus this man looked interesting, and he seemed like a good guy. So all in all, it wouldn’t hurt to befriend the blond.

Focusing his attention out on the land, his eyes roved over one headstone then to another, tracing the line in the graying white granite that held the names of those long departed. From his positions, the names were nigh impossible to read, but he still knew they were there. Names that might not have meant anything to him, but they meant the world to someone else. Mothers, fathers, siblings, lovers, children; they were all buried here in this place, all forever at rest, to feel no more pain or anger or happiness. Observing death like this was really an enlightening experience. Taking a deep breath, the soft, sweet smell of honeysuckle drifted through the air and all he could do was close his eyes and relax against the bark of the tree. In a way, this was calming. The breeze gently rocking the branches and the sound of the crickets softly chirping the night away could easily put someone to sleep if they weren’t careful. Raising a hand to run though his white-blond hair, he could only sigh in content. The soft noises at nature were slowly dancing there way along his skin, easing his muscles into a state of full relaxation.

“Kinda peaceful out here isn’t it? Not every day you can hear the sounds of nature without anyone breaking it and causing a tumult. If it wasn’t for knowing it’s a cemetery, I could almost sleep here. Well, at least you know you wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone. Who, besides us, is crazy enough to be in a cemetery at night?”

Forcing himself to move, the blanket around him fell to his waist as he shifted around to start digging in his bag. He had to rummage a bit before a smile broke out on his face and a thermos was pulled out to be brandished before the adjoining blond.

“Want some coffee to keep you awake? I would offer beer, but on the job you know. Least it’l keep us warm if it starts turning cold tonight.”

[Deleted]

Alfred chuckled at Gilbert's response - yes, if Alfred had a choice in the matter, he would have opted to meet someone new in a place other than a cemetery. The situation was a lot better now that he was with someone, but he still found dark cemeteries a little nerve-wracking.The young cop was mildly surprised when Gilbert used the word 'peaceful' to describe the cemetery. "I guess," he responded. He certainly hadn't felt that way when he was walking through the cemetery moments before. Every odd noise sent his heart racing. Clearly that was just him, however.

"I dunno, back in high school I was part of a group dared to hang out in a cemetery on Halloween night." That experience wasn't too bad for the most part - It was a large enough group that Alfred didn't feel as uncomfortable as he might have if he were alone or with only one or two others. The night wasn't without its surprises, however, as some of his friends who hadn't participated with the dare decided to hide in the shadows and jump out and scare some of those who had participated.

Alfred grinned at the mention of coffee. "So long as it ain't tea," he responded, taking the thermos and drinking. He'd been on bad terms with tea for years now, though he hadn't minded it so much as a child. Beer didn't sound bad, but a cop drinking beer while on duty and hanging out in a cemetery with someone that he was technically supposed to be kicking out of the cemetery wouldn't look too good. He still planned on using the excuse that he was keeping an eye on Gilbert, when really he was curious as to what Gilbert expected to find out here.

[Gilbert Fredrick Beilschmidt]

Having a cop near him didn’t unsettle him as much as it would some people. To Gilbert, it was just another person, another presence. He had some trouble with the cops when he was younger, bringing him home for being out past curfew, a few fights here and there, vandalism, all things young hooligans got in trouble for. Somehow they had kept him out of the system long enough for him to meet the man that changed his life. The one teacher he actually listened too. Letting out a small sigh, he couldn’t help but miss the man something terrible. He was like an uncle to Gilbert, one that was always there to listen to the things that couldn’t be told to parents. He was the guiding hand that led Gilbert to where he was now, to where he had a career he liked; even if he didn’t make a lot of money from it, and one that taught him it was alright to let people get close to him, that not everyone would abandon him like his real parents had. That had always been one of his fears, that people would see what they had seen and leave him alone, the freak that walked amongst them. Gilbert acted like it didn’t bother him, but it did. His mask was near perfect; very few things could break it. Very few people were allowed to see beneath is actually, not even his friends.

"I dunno, back in high school I was part of a group dared to hang out in a cemetery on Halloween night."

"Back in highschol, I would have been the one to hide in the bushes waiting to scare the pants off of people like you. I lived for the pranks and getting in trouble. It was always so easy to. A bit of eyeliner smeared under the eyes to make them look sunk in and some dirt in the hair and clothes matted with dirt, and oh I was soo good at it.

Gilbert was smiling at the memories, he did enjoy that so much, there was much he enjoyed from those times; especially the freedom he had. What he wouldn’t give to be able to pull some of those stunts and get away with it without worrying about the law or any other bothering him again. But shaking his head, he came back to the here and now and looked up to the moon, wrapping the blanket around him tighter.

“if it stays lie this, I’ll fall asleep and miss any odd and paranormal that may happen. Oh well, long as I’m still alive by day break, it’s all good.”

[Deleted]

Alfred took another sip of coffee as he glanced around. He hardly noticed all of the odd noises that had his heart racing before he'd spotted Gilbert. He had someone to distract him from that now. Even as a child, Alfred had trouble with silence. He was the type who needed to have the tv on to fall asleep - and if not a tv, at least a fan or something to generate noise to break through the silence. When he was awake, on the other hand, he used his voice to break up any awkward silences that he encountered. There were rare occasions when Alfred didn't mind silence, but those usually came when Alfred was extraordinarily stressed out about something.

Alfred laughed at Gilbert's story, recalling friends and acquaintances who used to do the same thing. "Yup, some of our friends did that. Don't think any of them got as into it as you did, though." Some of them might have messed up their hair to make themselves appear a little more unkempt, but for the most part they simply utilized the element of surprise to jump out and scare a few of their friends in a dark cemetery. It worked well enough, considering how Alfred and most of his friends nearly jumped out of their skin at the display.

It was a bit strange to be reminiscing with someone that he was technically supposed to be kicking out of the cemetery, but the whole thing seemed a little silly to Alfred. Gilbert wasn't hurting anyone being in the cemetery, and didn't seem as though he planned to at all. He could still do his job by keeping an eye on Gilbert. Alfred raised the thermos of coffee to his mouth and took a few more sips, savoring its warmth. The later it got, the cooler it grew. "So who gave you the tip about the cemetery supposedly being haunted?"

[Gilbert Fredrick Beilschmidt]

Listening to Al, he couldn’t help but laugh along. It was true, it was funny, and probably would have been fun to watch from a distance or if it was taped.
“Some of our friends did that. Don't think any of them got as into it as you did, though."

“I always get involved in what I do, I have so much more fun if I go all out”

Wrapping his jacket more tightly around him under the blanket, he closed his eyes for a moment and just enjoyed the silence. Most of the time when he was home, he had music going, and when he was out and about, he listened to people talking and he never really got to enjoy the silence that came with not talking. The sounds of nature were soothing, the crickets chirping out their own tune, and the sound of the wind whispering though the trees…. It was to quiet. Gilbert never did like silence, and he never really knew why. It was just something that bothered him and he always felt the need to fill it.

"So who gave you the tip about the cemetery supposedly being haunted?"

Opening his eyes, he was extremely grateful for Al breaking the silence. Thinking for a moment, he could only shrug and move to take another drink of the coffee. Part of his mind new he should have brought something to do with him.

“More just something I picked up from local uni kids. Heard them daring each other to stay in the haunted part of the graveyard, by the statue. So I figured, why not check it out to see if it really is haunted. I was going to do my research once I got this part done with, see if I could find out any stories that would point to a haunting here.. .besides people being buried here.”

Laughing with that, he looked at his companion and reached up to scratch the back of his neck. He knew it was stupid, but it was something. Pulling his bag over to him to pull out his notebook, he carefully wrote in it the time, and then after it still alone, no signs of anything living or undead for that matter

“Don’t worry, I won’t make any mention of you in the story. As far as anyone will know, besides us, I was here by myself with only the trees and the tombstones for company…. Man that sounds depressing…I should try writing gothic fiction.”

[Deleted]

Alfred grinned. "That's true. If you're gonna do something like that you might as well go for broke!" Alfred would probably be the same way if he ever gave anything like that a try.

The blonde sipped on more coffee, trying to keep himself occupied when another silence interrupted their conversation. This was part for the course of a conversation, and normally wouldn't bother Alfred that much. He didn't like silence, but he could take ordinary silence in a conversation. What he couldn't take was ordinary silence in a conversation that happened to be taking place in a graveyard. In a regular conversation during the day, or even in a house at night, there were ambient noises that one expected to hear. Such noises were soothing, even helping Alfred to fall asleep quicker on occasion. Out here, on the other hand, were noises that Alfred wasn't used to hearing.

Add that to the fact that the cemetery was supposedly rumored to be haunted? Yes, he felt a little nervous whenever there was a lull in his conversation with Gilbert. It felt as though he was a sitting duck waiting for that jump scare, like when he played Five Nights at Freddy's.

Alfred chuckled when Gilbert mentioned that the rumor came from university kids. "Sounds about right. They're usually the ones that get to talking." Alfred never went to university himself, having opted for the police academy instead, but still had an idea of how college worked.

Despite his nervousness, Alfred was undoubtedly curious. Even if they didn't encounter anything supernatural, they might find something interesting. Perhaps they'd even witness a crime in progress! It would beat the routine traffic stops Alfred was used to.

"Thanks man. I should technically be kicking you out of here for trespassing rather than hanging out with you, but that's no fun. You're not up to anything nefarious, you're just trying to get a story." Alfred shook his head and took another sip of his coffee.

[Gilbert Fredrick Beilschmidt]

"There's still fresh grief here you know? Wounds that haven't healed, lovers and family that refuse to let go of their relatives, no matter how long dead. It probably will be like this for centuries more, as long as there's earth still empty for housing."

It was a somber thought really, though perhaps a graveyard was the perfect place for self-reflecting. There was no one around to bother him, nor to make unreasonable demands for deadlines. Only the birds for company and they were no bother... well as long as there was no windows to tap upon and they didn't start chirping never more. Chuckling quietly to himself, he looked around, everything was as it should have been. The wind blowing the branches gently and the flowers in the nearest grave waved to and fro as if a greeting to all who would see.

Having his eyes closed in this peaceful setting was tempting to lull him to sleep, which wasnt on his schedule for getting his story. And besides, didn't the ghost hunters on those t.v. shows all have some sort of equipment capable of telling if a spirit was around? Sighing as he opened his eyes, he looked around. Was it a bit darker than it was before, or his imagination playing games on him? Jumping as a shadow moved in the corner of his sight, he started getting up, eyes staring in that direction. He could tell his hairs were standing on edge, waiting.

"Did you see that?"

Kneeling by the tree, he scanned the area, noticing that no birds were chirping anymore; and that even the wind had died down. Not even a blade of grass was moving. And somewhere behind him, new a circle of gravestones, a branch cracked

"I really don't like this. ...."

[Charlotte Delprat]

Some kids at Charlie’s school had organised a dare, a rather exciting one. During the witching hour on certain nights they would take turns to “haunt” the graveyard that everyone knew was full of ghosts. Costumes that ranged from zombies to ghosts to banshees served as a “disguise” and helped them scare the living crap out of people.
It was absolutely mega fun.

Classmates came to school the morning after their “graveyard shift” boasting to the frights they gave and the hazards they escaped. Everyone listening of course said that they didn't believe them but secretly they all really hoped that the stories were true. How great would it be to scare the living daylights out of college kids?

Tonight was Charlie’s turn

For her “disguise” she was wearing a costume that Kyle had brought her for Halloween. A knee length puff-sleeved dress with an old fashioned pinafore over the top. With her hair in pigtails she looked just like a 19th century doll. Why a doll? There were dozens of horror movies out there that featured haunted dolls. Charlie reckoned in this getup she could scare a few people. The chalk white face make-up and the fake blood on the front of her pinafore helped.

She had been tiptoeing around the graveyard, not seeing anyone and wondering whether her classmates’ tales actually were lies when she spotted a figure up ahead sitting on the ground. They hadn't spotted here yet. Perfect.

The figure started to turn his head and Charlie quickly ducked behind a large tombstone out of sight. "Did you see that?" said a voice. Everything was dead silent as the man listened. This was Charlie’s moment. Picking up a twig she snapped it, the sound was frightfully loud in the nigh-time silence. "I really don't like this. ...." The voice was really started to sound unnerved.

Charlie waited a few more moments (the other said this helped raise the tension) then began to sing in her best little girl voice.

"Goosey goosey gander, where shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs and in my lady’s chamber.
There I met an old man who wouldn't say his prayers,
I took him by his left leg and threw him down the stairs."

It was a nursery rhyme she had learned before she knew that she was learning it. When Charlie finished she knelt down and waited, wondering what rhyme she should try next. Three blind mice maybe?