Snowy Graves

It was the winter solstice, right after midnight, the whole world awoke - people and rats and bugs alike. The people rise out of bed, eyes warily searching out the window. Birds open their round eyes and scan the ground. And the night critters back up, ready to run. They all hold their breath and a groan arises in the air. It was quiet and muffled, as if it were barely there. As if something was covering the sound - like how a blanket muffled breathing. What could it be? All waited - and waited and waited.

Soon they began to rest - sleepily closing their eyes. The sound was nothing - an overactive imagination or the wind through the air... But not for long - soon a shriek began. It was loud and alien - not human, not animal. Not yet somewhere in between. It was fake, yet all so real. Eyes everywhere snapped open at the unearthly wail and a stillness born of fear began. No one dared move a muscle. The sound got louder and louder - what was going on?

Then the others began.

Scream after scream was heard, shrieks of bloody murder. Was that their neighbor? Their friend? Or - dare be - someone in their own house? No one dared make a peep in fear they may be next.
And, as suddenly as it began, it stopped. As the clamor died down - eyes widened as realization began to set in.

It was not the living that made such a noise - it was the dead.