The Midnight Hour & Other Scary Stories

The Gravedigger

The Gravedigger was a lonely man who lived on the edge of the cemetery. He had been here most of his life, tending to the graves and preparing them for their new occupants. Stories about him were all too common in that village and many of the people were scared of him.

And not without reason.

On long, cold nights, especially after a rain, the village children who were brave enough to sneak out of their warm beds and go up to the cemetery would hear the old Gravedigger talking to the ground as though he were speaking with an old friend.

In those days, people were too poor to afford coffins, so they wrapped their dead in sheets and lowered them into big open graves. It was said that while the Gravedigger threw his piles of dirt on them, he would talk to the bodies and hum a tune.

People knew not to go into his cemetery.

However, one rainy night, a pair of graverobbers visited the cemetery. The Gravedigger had gone to bed and did not hear the pair. They quickly located a patch of fresh earth and began to dig. It was a time when people buried their loved ones with valuables, and despite the village being poor, the thieves were hoping to strike it rich.

They dug and dug well into the night with only lantern light to guide them. The rain grew heavy and thick. Yet, no matter how far they dug, they could not find a body. There were trinkets here and there and even full sets of clothes. A gold coin or two but that was all.

Thinking it odd, they went to the next patch of fresh earth, and then the next and the next and so on until they had uncovered near half a dozen graves. None of them had bodies, only what little the village could afford to bury them with. Though the men had sacks full of goods now, they grew fearful and began thinking all manner of things.

"Ghouls." One of them said. "Has to be. They're tunneling out from the graves!"

"Let's get out of here!" The other replied. "We have more than enough."

They agreed. Yet, as the men went to leave, the Gravedigger stepped out from behind the cemetery's old, twisted tree. He carried with him a large shovel. Normally, the graverobbers wouldn't have been afraid, but the Gravedigger was a mountain of a man and his arms had been made strong from digging for so many years. Before they even had a chance to run, he swung his shovel at the grave robbers and hit them so hard he knocked them out.

When they came to he was dragging them towards a pair of open graves. He hummed to himself as he did.

Then, when the Gravedigger got close to the open graves, he said, "Now, now, my beauties. One at a time. No need to push. I haven't forgotten ya. Be patient down there!"

With a big great arm, he tossed one of the graverobbers into the pit. The other man trembled as screams of pain echoed from below. The man that had been thrown begged and pleaded for help, but a clap of thunder drowned out his screams. Soon, there was only the patter of rain.

Then, the Gravedigger looked at the other robber.

"They don't much like little doodads and whatnot. Can't stomach 'em." He said, grabbing hold of the robber's ankle. "Clothes too. They like meat and bone. Picky little darlin's."

With an effortless arc of his arm, the Gravedigger threw the other robber into the dark open grave. The robber landed so hard that the wind was knocked out of him. As he regained his breath he could hear a wet, squirming sound all around him.

Then, as lightning flashed overhead, the robber looked to his side and saw that big fat worms were crawling out from the damp earth. They were inching towards him.

Then, as one bit down on his arm, he realized that they had teeth.