Anton was eager to get to the cemetery, Ricky pretended to be, but was afraid. When they arrived it was just as they imagined it would be. It was dark with occasional beams of moonlight breaking through as the clouds passed by. There were some tombstones that were leaning and some that were lying flat on the ground. Weeds had grown where grass once was and vines had completely over run the iron archway that marked the entrance to the grounds.
The ambiance excited Anton but sent chills up Ricky’s back. In spite of his fear, he managed to smile at Anton in silent approval.
“Okay Ricky, hand me the bolt cutters.”
“Wow, look at that padlock. I’ll bet it’s been there for a hundred years.”
Anton placed the blades of the bolt cutters onto the shank of the old, rusted padlock but before he could cut it off the lock simply fell to the ground in little pieces. They just looked at one another in amazement and shrugged. Anton gave the cutters to Ricky then he pushed the rusty, iron gate open. It creaked loudly and then stopped, refusing to open another inch. It had only opened a little but it was enough for the inquisitive teenage boys to squeeze through.
Just inside the gate, Ricky began to let his true feelings show.
“Anton, I don’t think we should be here. What if the legend is true? What if no one ever leaves this cemetery alive, just like they say?”
“Don’t think that way. Just think how popular we’ll be after tonight?”
“Oh okay, whatever you say. Let’s just hurry and grab a tombstone and then get out of here.”
“Not so fast Rick. I want to look around first.”
At the north end of the cemetery stood an old crypt. Anton was drawn to it. The boys walked slowly through the cemetery until they arrived at the crypt’s door. It was open so they went in.
A couple of days later Deputy Wilson returned to headquarters.
“Okay Sheriff, I checked out that old cemetery like you asked me too.”
“Any trace of the boys?”
“Nope. It’s locked up tight. The gate still has the same padlock on it that’s been there for a hundred years.”