Darkness is rising

This is one of my old stories but very appropriate for Halloween 🎃😊

Someone had the decency to unlock the sun for an hour yesterday.
It is hard to imagine now when rain and hail are tumbling down. I was about to end my walk as the sun went down and dusk took over. I had some concerns because of the growing darkness.
Should I walk through the bog in the darkness or across the cemetery? Strange stories passed through me as I thought of the cemetery.

Once my brother took a short-cut across a cemetery late at night:

He entered our living room, pale with fear. His age in mind the experience must have been fierce. He was a teenager, and at that age it is inappropriate to be afraid. He was sure that he had stumbled upon a corpse on a small church path. My parents were sure that there was another explanation and they calmed him down so he was able to fall asleep.

Early the next morning my father went to the cemetery with my brother, and they did find a man. He wasn’t dead, but lacked a place to sleep. That finding brought my brother’s mind in a state of relief, but the cemetery was no longer an option for a short-cut.

An artist I once knew worked in a cemetery where he used an old gate house as a studio. He told me lots of stories one evening over a bottle of wine. I have never been able to forget this one in particular.
We sat by the fireplace and actually the weather outside was very similar to the weather in his story. He began the story describing how terrible tired and exhausted he was:

I’d been working late every night with the aim to get my last painting done for the opening. One night it became very late. Sometimes I get so tired that I have to pull myself together to go to bed, and I wasn’t even home yet.
So I turned off the lights and locked the door. When I went out in the storm and rain to find the car, I almost lost my breath, for it was bitterly cold.

A short stay in the wind combined with a break caused me to listen more attentively. Yes, there it was again! Help me, help !!!

It was difficult to determine the direction. The rain, the darkness and the wind created shadows where there usually were open spaces. After a while I decided to walk into the darker section of the cemetery until suddenly I saw a strange thing.
From one of the open graves prepared for the next day funeral I sensed a movement. Carefully approaching I could see two hands cling to the edge of an open grave.

At this point in his storytelling, he made a little stay and I could swear that there was a shiver running through him. He continued: I found myself in a state where my adrenaline whizz around in my body. I didn’t know whether I should turn and run, or just let myself be completely frozen with fear because I was nearly there already.

The rough terrifying voice tore me out of my trance by screaming in my ears: Heeeelp! Help me! I saw the man down in the grave. Two big scared eyes midst of all the mud, and a pair of hands which reached out like a child who wants to be lifted up.
I stood and gazed at him. It felt like hours. Then I recognised him. He was a slightly tipsy gentleman who often take his lunch on one of the benches, if not every day and in a liquid form.

Close to the grave hang a water hose. I tied the hose onto an iron pipe and handed the other end to the man in the grave.
The exhausted man was rescued from the cold grave, and after a drink and some dry clothes, he told his story about how he fell down in the grave by an accident.

But I was still considering which way to choose. I looked at the bog and the growing darkness and my thoughts went to Frodo, Sam, and Gollum when they went through the Dead Marshes on the way to Mordor.
I chose the cemetery đŸ€žđŸ˜Š

NĂ„r virkeligheden overgĂ„r fantasien.

When reality surpasses the imagination.
I went to Mariebjerg Cemetery to find inspiration for an eerie post. The inspiration came faster than I expected. I had just found the mausoleums where one can get a glimpse of the coffins, as dark diffuse topics.
The remains of the day’s light flickered in the burial chamber when the trees waved in the wind.
I knew my time was short. I’m talking photography. The clouds were beginning to look threatening and I would expect heavy rain at any moment.
The last time I had visited coffins with uncanny potential was in the Christian Church in Copenhagen.
The church has a crypt, and coincidentally there was no light in the crypt that day. My friend got a small cut on his hand when he had to close a large black iron gate. The wound was very slow to heal.. and we began to wonder. But before the horror got a grip on us, fortunately his hand was cured.
Now I’m off alone. Because of the bad weather approaching the late afternoon seems darker than normal.
I had been through several sections of the beautiful and hilly cemetery. There are urn valleys and forest sections, as well as a myriad of other sections.
Utterly unexpected lightning rips the sky followed by a huge blast that seems to shake everything around me. At that moment the windows of heaven open itself, and the rain is pouring down. I feel very exposed. I am surrounded by tall trees, it is the worst place I can be. The cemetery stock had left a door open to a smaller building which is built close to the mausoleums.
I felt a horror inside when I was considering going there, but lightning followed by an enormous blast decides the outcome. I run past the tombs and into the dark building.

Mariebjerg KirkegÄrd

Mariebjerg KirkegÄrd

My heart stands still by the sound of a piercing scream and to my relief I see a cat flees.The room is gloomy. In a corner small coffins are stacked against the wall. There is a pervasive smell of damp and rot.
I’m talking myself down. After all it is just a building for use of tools and similar objects. At the same time a new lightning tears the heaven apart and in that short time I detect a movement from the upper coffin. The lid is sliding aside.
The furious storm becomes like a dear old friend. I flout all safety regulations and flees through the cemetery and out on the main street now so strangely emptied for pedestrians due to the bad weather.
Lightning and thunder rumble replace each other, but I don’t care. My thin rain jacket has abandoned the job and the icy rain has reached my sweater, it means nothing compared to the cemetery.
Did I get that eerie inspiration? Oh yes the thunderstorm did the job extremely well 🙂

Jeg var taget pÄ Mariebjerg KirkegÄrd for at finde inspiration til et uhyggeligt indlÊg. Inspirationen fik jeg hurtigere end forventet. Jeg havde netop fundet mausolÊerne, hvor man kan skimte kisterne, som mÞrke diffuse emner.
Resterne af dagslyset flakkede i gravkammerene, nÄr trÊerne vajede i blÊsten.
Jeg vidste, min tid var kort. AltsÄ til fotografering. Det trak op til uvejr, og skyerne var begyndt at se truende ud.

Sidste gang jeg havde aflagt besÞg ved kister med uhyggeligt potentiale var i Christianskirken pÄ Strandgade i KÞbenhavn.
Kirken har en krypt, og tilfÊldigvis var der ikke noget lys i krypten den pÄgÊldende dag. Min ven fik en lille rift pÄ hÄnden, da han skulle lukke en stor sort gitterport. SÄret var meget lÊnge om at lÊges. SÄ lÊnge at vi begyndte at undre os. Men inden uhyggen fik rigtig tag i os, var hÄnden heldigvis lÊgt.

Nu er jeg taget afsted alene. PĂ„ grund af det arriverende uvejr er den sene eftermiddag mĂžrkere end normalt.
Jeg har vÊret igennem flere af afdelingerne pÄ den smukke og kuperede kirkegÄrd. Der er urnedale og skovafsnit, samt et utal af andre afdelinger.

Aldeles uventet flÊnger et lyn himlen efterfulgt af et kÊmpe skrald, som synes at ryste alt omkring mig. I det samme Äbner himlens sluser sig og det vÊlter ned med regn. Jeg fÞler mig meget udsat. Jeg er omgivet af hÞje trÊer, det er det vÊrste sted jeg kan opholde mig. KirkegÄrdens materielgÄrd har ladet en dÞr stÄ Äben til en mindre bygning der er opfÞrt tÊt pÄ mausolÊerne.

Mariebjerg KirkegÄrd

Mariebjerg KirkegÄrd

Det gyser i mig, da jeg overvejer at gÄ derind, men et lyn efterfulgt af et kÊmpe brag afgÞr udfaldet. Jeg lÞber forbi gravkamrene og ind i den mÞrke bygning. Mit hjerte stÄr nÊsten stille for i det samme lyder et ÞresÞnderrivende skrig og en kat tager flugten. Der er skummelt i rummet. I et hjÞrne stÄr smÄ kister stablet op ad vÊggen. Der er en gennemtrÊngende lugt af fugt og rÄddenskab.

Jeg taler mig selv til ro. Det er trods alt bare en bygning til anvendelse af redskaber og lignende genstande. I det samme flĂŠnger et nyt lyn himlen og i det kortvarige lys registrerer jeg en bevĂŠgelse fra den Ăžverste kiste. LĂ„get er begyndt at glide til side.

Det rasende uvejr bliver som en kÊr gammel ven. Jeg lader hÄnt om alle sikkerhedsforskrifter og flygter gennem kirkegÄrden og ud pÄ Lyngby Hovedgade.

Lyn og torden aflÞser hinanden, men jeg er ligeglad. Min tynde regnjakke har opgivet Êvred og den iskolde regn har nÄet min sweater, men det betyder intet i sammenligning med kirkegÄrden.

Fandt jeg inspirationen pĂ„ kirkegĂ„rden? Åh ja! Tordenvejret underholdt mig til det sidste, og erstattede den spĂŠnding, man ellers kan forvente sig af indbyggerne pĂ„ en kirkegĂ„rd.

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God tur og husk regntþjet 🙂

Mariebjerg KirkegÄrd

Christians Kirke