they're cute either way

@vxntriloquist

Christine walks quietly through the
cemetery, her eyes scanning over
the names on each and every grave
marker she passes.

                   She knows her Papa is buried just
                   a few yards away.

      But she hasn’t visited his grave in many
      years now, having grown used to the grief
      and used to the fact that she has much
      bigger things to worry about. Things that
      would sneak up on her weeping form when
      she least expected it.

She comes to a stop in front of a fresh
mound of dirt, sighing softly to herself
as she slowly sets her things down.

      Just beneath that mound of dirt is a monster
      waiting to burst free and terrorize all of Paris
      itself. If Christine has anything to do with it,
      the deceased man won’t make it past his own
      tombstone.

She’s just about to settle in to wait for
the man to rise when she hears a soft
crack from a twig. She knows it’s not
him, of course, given the fact that the
soil he’s under has not been broken
yet, but she’s been doing this for quite
a while now, and a human has never
come to the cemetery this late.

                    Which means it’s something else.

A moment passes and she hears nothing
more, but she knows that there are eyes
on her.

      She sighs. “I know you are there,
      so you may as well come out.”