Graveyard Girl

During her lifetime, she had never actually been to a graveyard. The closest she came was holding her breath as the family station wagon drove by. Nor had she been to a cemetery. Nor a mausoleum, catacomb, or crypt.

But she could distinguish the difference, both etymologically and historically, between each of them. Her favorite stories were set in burial grounds, Gothic narratives dripping with death and love and tragedy.

So even though she was cremated, and her ashes spread out to sea, not many people were surprised to find her ghost haunting the church graveyard near her childhood home.

The Long Forgotten Adventures Of Blake Worthington, Archeologist

We stumbled upon the entrance buried beneath the sand. It figured, with 14 miles of desert in every direction, the door had to be buried. Thank God for the stolen map.

The tunnel was cool, a welcome respite. We had run out of water hours ago.

"You know, if the Midnight Sun is not here, we are going to die," Semele whispered.

"It's here, trust me."

We lit torches, and descended into the catacombs. The passageway opened into a cavernous chamber. The walls, the ceiling, the dais, everything was stripped clean.

"It appears Dr. Jones beat us to the prize again."