Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own OCs, should I create any for these stories.
Author's Note: These stories don't need to be read in any particular order, as they can all relatively stand alone.
Every spring, John Benton made a trip to visit his brother's grave. He always brought flowers and told stories about what sorts of things he'd been up to (censored appropriately if other people were around), and every year, for the most part it was the same. He was there to reminisce and grieve, and no one ever disturbed him.
This year, however…something felt off. He wasn't sure what it was, but Benton had an uncomfortable sensation of being watched. He'd looked all around, but had seen no one, apart from one or two people that had come by to pay their respects.
Chris had been buried in a smaller cemetery, one that you could easily see the entire expanse of just by standing in one spot and turning. There was nowhere that anyone could possibly hide; just rows of various-shaped gravestones, crosses, and stone angels in various poses marking burial places.
Maybe it was just paranoia, he reasoned. He was so used to having to deal with abnormal situations on a day-to-day basis, that doing something as commonplace as this was making him suspicious.
He shrugged, and prepared to leave. But what he failed to notice as he walked out of the cemetery and back to his car was that he was being watched…a pair of hands had lowered from one stone angel's eyes.