A Roll Of The Dice - 08
This series of narrative fiction is based on random words that are picked via dice rolling.
Cemetery • Glasses • Rung • Switch • Minister • Hobby • Miner
What a cliché, Val thought. She was on her hands and knees in a cemetery, searching for her square-rim glasses. Might as well shout, "Jinkies!" while she was at it.
Sadly, this wasn't even the first time she'd been in this position this week. She and Mark had decided to sneak in and have “spooky sex under the stars,” as Mark had put it. It had admittedly been quite liberating. Though, she might have enjoyed it more if he hadn't been so eager to switch positions every few minutes. It had been freezing and she was “just fine under the blanket, thank you very much.”
Sex in the cemetery isn't what brought her here tonight, though. In fact, it had been another cliché that prompted this visit: solving a mystery. Oh God, was she really this predictable?
Her friend Deni had been gossiping at lunch in the senior quad.
"I'm telling you, there's 100% something going on between Uri and Father Peter."
She went on about how she'd seen the minister whisper something to Uri after a service, then saw them both enter a room. Not super unusual for someone that scheduled services, Val had thought. But, when Deni had later asked Uri about what he'd been doing, he clammed up.
"Not really your business, Deni," he'd said awkwardly.
That night, Deni had rung Val's doorbell and told her parents she was there to study.
They snuck out, sat in Deni’s car outside Uri's parents’ house, and waited.
"I got his number from the chapel office. We should text him pretending to be Fr. Peter," Deni said.
Val had gone along with it, of course. What kind of friend would she be to say no? (A good one, probably.)
They told Uri to meet them at Rosewood Mortuary, then hopped the sheer fence to lie in wait.
And so, here Val was, once again on her hands and knees in a cemetery (except this time, with her clothes on.)
A Roll Of The Dice - 08
“I really need to stop making a hobby of sneaking into cemeteries, she thought briefly.”
"Shit he's right there," Deni whispered. Uri had pulled up in his old beater about two minutes ago but was just getting out. "Here," she poked Val with the end of Val’s glasses.
"Let's hide right there," Deni said. She started squat-walking to an open hole, trying to keep low. Not an open hole, a grave, Val thought. How wonderfully macabre.
Being in the grave made Val feel claustrophobic. Like a miner, without the fun headlamp and nice protective helmet, she thought.
Another car was pulling up next to Uri's. Father Peter got out slowly. Shit.
"What's this all about, Uri?” Father’s voice was soft and lilting.
"Probably some kids pulling a prank," Uri said, looking around. "Kids who need to learn a lesson.”
Uri went to the minister's trunk and pulled out some flashlights and... was that an axe?!
"Deni, we need to get the fuck out of here," Val was panicking.
"But we still don't know what their deal is!"
She said it right as Uri gave one of the torches to Father Peter, only to follow up with a brief kiss.
"Be careful,” he said, barely audible to the two girls.
"Oh. Oh, fuck!" Val stammered.
"I told you!"
"Doesn't change the axe, Deni!"
Deni let out a mumbled affirmation before jumping up and swinging herself out of the grave.
"Come on, I'll help you up," she whispered. "One... two... thr-.”
As Val was about to jump, the blade of an axe bloomed from Deni's chest.
"Look at this, Father," Uri panted, “they were kind enough to dig their own grave.”
Val couldn’t remember what happened after that but woke up to dirt on her face. She looked up at Father Peter, who was watching solemnly as Uri buried the two girls below where a coffin would inevitably reside.
Val, still alive, could make out the last trace of a crooked smile on the old minister's cracked lips.
I really need to stop making a hobby of sneaking into cemeteries, she thought briefly. It was her last thought before she died.
