Black Agnes

The cemetery seemed to glare at the three girls from across the street. Its thick, concrete walls and gate hanging on rusty hinges painted a scene from a childhood ghost story. Several tall, wiry trees peeked at them from over the walls, home to grim, cawing ravens. As the sun set, the cemetery walls cast a dark shadow across the street, touching the girls’ faces.

Amanda sighed. “This is it.” She pointed to the cemetery. “Black Saint Graveyard.”

Janet gulped, loud enough that the other two girls could hear her. Shelby snorted. “Having second thoughts, Janet?”

She shook her head. “Not on your life.”

Amanda looked over at her visibly nervous friend, then turned back to the cemetery. “As an initiation rite, you have to stay overnight in this graveyard. When morning comes, we’ll go look for you.”

“Sounds easy,” Janet said.

“It gets worse,” Shelby replied. “When we find you in the morning, you have to be sleeping in the arms of the statue of Black Agnes.”

Janet felt her heart skip a beat. “Black Agnes?”

Amanda smirked. “A hundred years ago, there was a young woman who lived near here named Agnes. She was quiet, lonely, and always wore black. She spent all of her time in her home, until one day, she met a charming man. The two got together, and things were so good between them that they became engaged.

“But on the day of their wedding, the man revealed that the entire relationship had been a ruse, just as a cruel prank on the woman. Agnes was laughed out of the church. Her heart broken, she went to a tree in that cemetery and hung herself.”

“That’s so sad,” Janet said. “How can people be so cruel?”

“Life’s a bitch,” Shelby said.

Amanda continued. “She was buried in the cemetery. Some decades ago, a monument of her was built over her grave, which lay directly under the tree she had hung herself on. It shows her kneeling down, hands outstretched, her face stricken with pain.”

“Where in the cemetery is this statue?” Janet asked.

“That’s for you to figure out,” Shelby said with a sadistic grin.

Janet blinked. “So what I have to do is stay overnight in that cemetery, and fall asleep in the arms of the statue of that poor old woman?”

“Correct,” Amanda said.

Janet paused. “I… don’t know.”

Shelby snorted. “I knew it. You’re too much of a wuss to stay in a freaking boneyard overnight.”

“I… am not!”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

Janet frowned. “I will.”

“Good.” Shelby smiled.

“Meet us here at eleven o’clock,” Amanda said. “Don’t bring anyone or anything, besides the clothes on your back.”

Janet nodded her head. After a moment of silence, she whispered, “Bye,” and ran off, towards home.

Amanda and Shelby watched her go. As she left their sight, Shelby began to laugh. “Nice one, Mandy.”

“Do tell.”

“You didn’t tell her about the ‘curse.’”

The two of them face each other, then began laughing out loud. They would have never told Janet that misfortune always fell upon those who slept in the arms of Black Agnes, or Janet wouldn’t have gone along with it. They would tell her afterwards, once there was no turning back.

ELEVEN O’CLOCK AT NIGHT…

Janet slowly shuffled her feet against the pavement. It was cloudy outside, preventing the moon from shining down on the land below. The streets were illuminated only by the periodic streetlamp, the rest a shroud of darkness.

She could hardly see in front of her, but enough that she was able to make it along the road to the cemetery. By the gates, she could see Amanda and Shelby standing. Amanda was holding an electric lantern in her hand, and Shelby was smoking a cigarette. They both didn’t seem to notice her approaching until she stepped into the circle of light.

Shelby lowered the cigarette. “I don’t believe it. You actually came.”

“Of course I did,” Janet said defensively. She looked through the gate into the cemetery. It seemed so vast, dark, and ominous. She was having second thoughts.

“Having second thoughts yet?”

“No.”

“Good. Amanda?” She returned the cigarette to her lips.

Amanda placed the lantern onto the ground and pulled a small backpack from over her shoulder. “Everything you’ll need is in here,” she said. “A flashlight, some spare batteries, a watch, a water bottle, a snack bar, a dagger—.”

“A knife?” Janet asked. “What for?”

Shelby grinned. “Don’t be afraid of the dark, be afraid of what it hides.”

Janet gulped. Amanda continued. “One more thing.” She pulled something from her pocket. It was a rosary. “Do you believe in God?”

“Yes…”

“Me and Mandy don’t,” Shelby snorted, “but we figured you would. Take it.”

Uneasily, Janet reached out and took the rosary. She shoved it into her pocket. “Thank you.”

“You can use it for comfort if you’re feeling scared.” Shelby sucked in, then blew out a puff of smoke. “Not that it will help you any once you’re in there.”

Janet took the backpack and slung it over her shoulder. Amanda grabbed the lantern and raised it again. Suddenly, Janet realized something. “Hey, the cemetery is always locked at night. How will we get in?”

Amanda grinned and produced a small, bronze key. “This key will unlock the gates.” She turned to the lock on the gate.

“Where did you get that?” Janet asked. “Is that the real key?”

“No, it’s a forgery.” The lock clicked, and released. With a push from Shelby, the gates swung open with a loud, horrifying screech, before clanging against the concrete walls. Amanda pointed into the cemetery. “This is your room for the night.”

“Have a wonderful stay!” Shelby laughed.

Nervously, Janet stepped forward. It was dark and quiet in there. She’d be there all night. And not only that, but it was a graveyard… It was a place where the dead were buried. She wanted to get out right now, to just leave. She turned to face her two friends.

Amanda still wore an apathetic look on her face, holding the right gate open. Shelby was leaning against the left gate, cigarette in her mouth. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “Scared already.”

Janet wanted to say yes, to tell them that she wanted to leave. She was just an innocent young girl, she had never done anything bad in her life, and she had never been out trespassing long after curfew. But as she thought this, she also remembered that this might be her only chance to impress the two girls. This might be her only chance to make friends.

She sighed. “No, I just had a question.”

“What?”

“When will you come get me?”

Amanda smiled. “In six hours, at five o’clock. We’ll open the gates and see if you’re asleep on the statue. If you are, you’re a member.”

“And again I ask… where is this statue?”

“And again I say, that’s for you to figure out.”

Janet frowned, her lips quivering. Slowly, reluctantly, she stepped forward, away from her friends, away from the street, away from the warm glow of the lantern. Finally, she was all the way inside. She turned around.

Amanda and Shelby were both grinning. “Sleep tight!” Amanda shouted.

“Don’t let Agnes bite!” Shelby added. Laughing, the two girls pulled the gates back and slammed them shut. Janet could hear them locking her inside. Then, they walked away, until Janet could no longer see the shining light of the lantern, or hear their footsteps or their voices.

Silence.

She was alone.

Slowly, she turned away from the gate, towards the cemetery. It was dark, but she could see the distinct shapes in the shadows of headstones, lined up in grim rows. A black tree wasn’t very far, and she could hear the ravens crowing.

She pulled the backpack from her shoulder and dug for the flashlight. Pulling it out, she flicked it on. Now, she could see.

As she swung the flashlight around, she examined the area. There were rows of tombstones of various shapes and sizes. She moved the flashlight to her left. More tombstones, and the tree. She shone it up the body of the tree, into the branches. Through the leaves, she saw the deep red eyes of the ravens staring back at her. She felt uneasy.

Suddenly, one of the birds jumped down from its branch and batted its wings, flying towards her. The rest followed. Janet screamed and ducked down, the beating of black wings surrounding her. The birds cawed, their tiny claws just inches above her head. She held her eyes shut and remained still.

Finally, the last of the birds disappeared over her. She looked up. The birds had come to rest on the concrete wall of the cemetery. They stood there, still staring back at her.

Janet felt terrified, and turned to run. She didn’t care where she went, as long as it was away from those birds. She dashed through the cemetery, the flashlight bouncing back and forth against the shadows of the night. Finally, she came to a stop. She turned around.

She had lost her bearings. She was somewhere in the cemetery, but she didn't know where. All she could see was rows of headstones, and a few tombs.

Oh no, she thought. This cemetery was almost half a square mile in area, and it was the largest in the state. It would be very easy to get lost. She sighed. She already had.

Slowly, her feet shuffling against the grass, she walked off, trying to find out where she was.

LATER...

She looked down at her watch. 11:42. She still had five hours and eighteen minutes left.

Raising her flashlight into the darkness, she choked a little. She still had no idea where she was, and she was become very, very scared. But she was going to do this. It was just a graveyard, and nothing more.

Swallowing her fears, she stepped further into the night. Her whole time here, there had been nothing but rows of tombstones. Occasionally, there’d be a tomb, or a monument. She hadn’t yet encountered the boundaries at the edge of the cemetery. This made her feel hopeless.

Suddenly, she heard a scrambling to her left. She spun to the source of the sound, shining her flashlight in the direction. There was nothing there. Then, the sound came again, behind her. She turned just in time to see a large, hairy animal scurry between her legs. She shrieked and leapt away. What was that? A rat? A stray cat? Feeling disgusted, she hurried away. She didn’t want to see any more of those things.

When she stopped, she was lost again. She was having a hard time holding back tears. Feeling defeated, she fell to her knees, sobbing silently. Aside from her weeping, everything was perfectly quiet.

Sniffling, she opened her backpack and took out the water bottle. She drank from it energetically. As she wiped her mouth, she realized she was hungry. She dug further into the backpack and produced the snack bar. It was small, and not her favorite flavor, but she ate it anyways.

Zipping up her bag, she raised the flashlight to look around. As she circled around, she could see nothing but rows of tombstones. But then…

She realized there was a rise in the earth in one direction. Maybe it led to a hill, where she would have a better view of the cemetery. She dashed in that direction. Her legs became tired as she moved up the incline, but soon, she was at the top of the hill. Then, she saw it.

The statue was before her. It was tall and grim, cut from marble. It stood below a gnarled old tree. That was it. She just had to stay in its arms for the night, and then it would all be over. She grinned, and hurried towards it. When she was upon it, she examined it further.

It depicted a young woman, her eyes closed and face grief-stricken. Her arms were outstretched as she knelt on both knees. A plaque sat beneath her. Janet looked at it from head to toe, then walked right up to it.

The arms were about six feet from the ground. She grabbed one of them and tried to pull herself up, but couldn’t. Then, she went around and climbed up the back of the statue. She felt bad, as though she was desecrating someone’s grave. But it had to be done.

Finally, she slipped down the front of the statue into its arms. She seemed to fit perfectly in them. She sighed, feeling as though her ordeal was at an end. She looked up at the statue’s face, at its solemnly closed eyes. Somehow, she felt comforted, as if the spirit of Agnes would protect her.

Trying to get as comfortable as possible in the statue’s cold, hard arms, she pulled her backpack onto her stomach and opened it. She took the rosary, holding it in her hands. She then slung the pack over one of the statue’s hands. Now, she would be safe. All she had to do was sleep. Slowly, she closed her eyes. All she could hear was the distant chirping of crickets.

Then, the caw of a bird.

And another, followed by the fluttering of wings.

Again.

She opened her eyes, and saw that there were now many small, red eyes up in the branches of the tree, staring down at her. She grabbed her flashlight and pointed it up. The ravens were in the tree. She lowered the flashlight. More were perched on the edge of the statue.

A loud screech came from behind her, and she spun the flashlight into that direction. More birds were coming, flying right towards her.

On the verge of wetting her pants, she tried to climb down from the statue’s arms. She’d had quite enough. As she stood up slowly, the flashlight shone upon the statue’s face, and her blood ran cold. The marble face of Agnes, which had earlier been looking forward, eyes closed, was now staring right at her, her face filled with fury. Janet gasped, dropping the flashlight. It fell to the ground, and broke apart.

There was darkness. Not a sound.

Then, Janet screamed.

THE NEXT MORNING…

Amanda pulled the key from her pocket, and unlocked the gates to the cemetery. They swung open with an eerie moan. “Let’s see if she found the statue.”

“I doubt it,” Shelby said. The two walked into the cemetery. It was still silent, the sun slowly creeping over the horizon. They walked across the grass, through the lines of tombstones. Ahead of them, the ground rose steeply. “Black Agnes is over there. Let’s find out if Janet even made it.” They climbed up the hill.

As they reached the top, they saw the statue, and they didn’t see Janet in its arms. Rather, it was a moving, black mass. It made a strange, rustling sound.

“I guess Janet didn’t make it.” She picked up a rock. “But the freaking birds did.” She threw the rock, which struck the statue in the face. The ravens scattered, flying away in every direction. Amanda and Shelby were both stunned.

Janet was in fact in the arms of the statue. Slowly, the two girls approached. “Oh my God,” Amanda said. Shelby was speechless.

The girl lay in the statue’s arms, her limbs dangling stiffly. Her mouth was agape, eyes wide open. The knife that had been given to her was now thrust into her chest. Blood covered most of her body and clothes. There were visible marks on her skin where the birds had been pecking at her flesh. The rosary dangled from her fingers.

Amanda raised her hands to her face. Shelby stared at the body, then up to the statue, and gasped out loud. The statue’s face was no longer one of solemnity, but instead it now bore a smug grin. Black Agnes was happy.

THE FOLLOWING WEEKS…

Amanda and Shelby reported Janet’s death to the police, but didn’t mention their involvement. The officials were aware that sororities would have girls go into the cemetery at night and sleep in the statue of Agnes’ arms as an initiation rite, but nothing like this had ever happened.

The girls who had slept in the statue’s arms claimed that they had been given bad luck. One mentioned her cat being killed. Another had her credit card stolen. Another had her finger cut off in an industrial fan. But none of them had been murdered like Janet. It was a long time after the event that girls would return to the habit of sleeping on the statue overnight, but after Janet’s death, nobody claimed to have been given bad luck. It was as if the ‘curse’ had subsided.

Though nobody knew it, not even herself, Janet was the direct descendent of the man who had deceived Agnes so many years ago. And ever since the day of Janet’s mysterious death, Agnes’ monument continued to smile, as if fulfilled. Agnes had carried out her revenge.

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

This story is based off an urban legend. It told of a woman who was left heartbroken by her fiancé, and many years later killed the descendent of the man. The girl had fallen asleep in the arms of the woman’s monument, as a dare from her friends. This shows that you should never bring harm to someone, because even if they can’t take out their revenge on you, they can take it out on your descendents.