The Unholy Dead - Sylvester Murray - Bog

A cold Northerly breeze blew bitterly, chilling them to the core, as Meghan and her partner Jason, crept silently. Overhead, dark clouds drifted and blotted out the full moon, casting the cemetery into a murky blackness, yet further on, they could see a storm brewing. Lightning danced in the sky as they hurried along with the desire to read the tombstones that brought them out in the middle of the night. Some of the graves were hundreds of years old.