Keeper of The Kirkyard (a Short Story) | Mixed Media Project

The cold dread of black night blanketed the isolated field. Only long shadows cast upon the plots revealed themselves through the dull, gray skyline. The Keeper of the Kirkyard stirred. My shift begins, he mulled as several new permanent visitors waited.

One by one, he extended his hand, gently accepting them into his care. While placing their remains in the designated crypts, he paused.

A lovely young woman with a stoic expression stared up at him as though she hadn't a clue why she was in his embrace. She has a story to tell. Quietly, he caressed her face. Memories flowed through his hands as salty tears dripped beyond, peeling back the hidden truths.

"Let me tell you what I believe. A misunderstanding; nothing more. Jeanne Henson interjected, then continued. "Some hinted the ordeal evoked by envy; others, greed," sophomore, Jeanne Henson, interjected, then continued. "There was panic everywhere we turned in our dorm once we discovered Colleen missing after the tragic death of her boyfriend, Liam." She burst into tears.

Captain Edmonds reached across the table and offered a tissue. "You may go, miss. Thanks for coming in. We appreciate it. If you think of anything else, give me a call."

"None of this makes sense. And it doesn't bring my truest friend back," Jeanne replied in a whimper. "If only she'd confided in me that night. I would've advised her against visiting Liam's fraternity house."

Minutes after Jeanne left, the Captain and his Lieutenant exchanged glances. Edmonds offered in a somber tone, "we may never uncover why Colleen Dubois lost her life. What a tangled web we have on our hands Lieutenant," he conceded. "If only I hadn't accused her upfront and allowed the scene to unfold.

But it was too late for recriminations. She came to them with a story, desperate for their protection. Instinct or not, Edmonds didn't believe her version. A night of drug partying had left Liam dead, he surmised. Deciding not to detain her; instead, he issued a no-flee warning.

His words didn't stick. If I'm to survive, she reasoned, distancing myself from this college town is the only avenue. My parents will know what to do.

The retro pylon sign of a 24-hour diner hissed like a trapped wasp, casting fractured red and orange light across Colleen's knuckles. She sat in the darkest vinyl booth, fingers trembling. On the small formica table lay a scattered local newspaper. The headline screamed in bold ink:

LOCAL COLLEGE STUDENT MURDERED;
GIRLFRIEND SOUGHT AS PERSON OF INTEREST

Sought as person of interest? I'm smart enough to know the implication behind those words. An old school pin the tail on the donkey. She squeezed her eyes shut, scant scents of copper and sound of police sirens still echoing in her ears.

Liam was dead. The frat boy she had laughed with just seventy-two hours ago was gone, and the police had found her fingerprints on every surface in his dorm room and on his body.

"Everything okay, hon?"

Colleen’s eyes snapped open. A waitress stood staring down at her, holding a small coffee decanter. Colleen tucked her hair inside, then pulled the oversized hoodie tighter around her face, staring into the dark booth shadows.

"Just tired," Colleen managed, her voice cracking. "Passing through toward a change of scenery."

"Bathroom's in the back if you need to freshen up. Have a cup of coffee on me," the waitress said, offering a friendly and sympathetic, but weary smile before walking away.

Her heart ached for Liam and the perfect life together they were planning after college. She heaved a heavy sigh. Stop it! she demanded silently through puffy eyes. Tears won't do any good. Only thing matters is a clear head to navigate my next move.

She glanced at the paper again. The police didn’t care about Liam's preliminary toxicology or underlying medical condition reports. They had their suspect. A twenty-one-year-old female with a tear-streaked face and no alibi.

She felt a suffocating pressure in her chest, a mix of grief and white-hot terror. She couldn't go to jail for a crime that would ruin all hopes of medical school and private practice afterward. Sliding a five-dollar bill under the coffee mug, she peered beyond the counter waiting for the waitress to head toward the kitchen. Pushing through the heavy glass doors, she stepped out into the night's drizzling rain.

Beyond the parking lot, the highway stretched out before her, unfamiliar and unforgiving. But it offered her only guide toward home.

Instantly, a shadow approached. She stopped, taken aback. I'll not die this night, she promised. Recovering, she tread backward, turned, then spotted the bus station next to the cafe. Fleeing inside. With her back against the wall, she wrapped her arms around her waist and held her breath. An imaginary hand closed around her throat.

Closing her eyes, she waited.

Drizzling rain turned downpour as it beat a frantic rhythm against the station's frosted glass, mirroring the erratic thumping in Colleen’s chest. Visions of Liam floated across her face. How did it all go so terribly wrong? she wondered, remembering their history.

A high-achieving pre-med student the same as I, Liam didn't deserve to die from a severe cardiac episode. Shaking her head, she recalled trying to warn him of the harmful effects of a nootropic drug combination he experimented with as a study aid.

"I'd no choice," he admitted, determined to plow through, pushing domestic problems, including finances, to the rear.

But securing the coveted medical fellowship by stealing my original research knowing our family situations were similar, was inexcusable and unethical; if not academically criminal.

It didn't help that Captain Edmonds found my fingerprint on Liam's batch of pills. The evidence mounted as my threatening texts to him about the theft of my research I discovered in his dorm room, as well as our subsequent argument there the night he died.

I hung my head after he adamantly refused to return my research, intending to forge ahead with its use. "If we're going to be married, it doesn't matter which of us gets into med school." That's the moment I realized the fellowship meant more than being Liam's wife.

I have to move forward, I told myself, so I opened my eyes and headed for the station's counter.

"Ticket to Raleigh," I whispered suppressing angry tears, voice cracking as I pushed the crumpled twenty-dollar bills through the ticket window. I wasn't supposed to be here. I was supposed to be preparing for finals, laughing, studying, and planning with Liam.

Instead, Liam was dead on his fraternity bathroom floor with his collage senior girlfriend their prime suspect. I pulled my hood string tighter, eyes darting to the flickering television above the terminal. The local news anchor paused mid-sentence, the headline glaring "Student Murder Suspect On The Run."

The student murder suspect wasn't on the run. I'd had time to think. Lyle's purported friend, Julian Singh, a rival contender for the fellowship, was a ruthless student both academically and socially. If he turned Liam on to the drug, then he also was using it to advance his fellowship chances. I had simply walked in on Julian handing Liam the toxic pills. He could kiss his fellowship goodbye. And he couldn't let anyone live who knew that truth.

With ticket in hand, Colleen pivoted toward the exit.

Immediately, the station doors swung open, letting in a gust of cold air and a figure in a dark trench coat she recognized from his pill exchange with Liam.

He wasn't there to buy a ticket.

What a pity one so young, the Keeper thought as he laid Colleen to rest among others who'd succumbed to the black night before their lives were fully realized.

For my current mixed media design, I wanted to portray a sad conclusion to my accompanying story about a female college student's entanglement in a campus mystery. The theme is dark as well as the design. For the female, I chose a lovely free-sourced image. A cemetery with graves were included for the outcome of the female's life.

I utilized stable diffusion programs, StarryAI and Nvidia Gaugan, for the graveyard scenery and gravestones. Of course, a haunting atmosphere with a dark moon and clouds added to the mysterious interment.

Below are my steps in which I utilized Canva, my design program, to blend the different type images. I began with a blank, white canvas, then added layers of elements.

The images I included in my design are listed below:

^{Cemetery ~ Hand protruding from ground in storm ~ Forest covered in olive - designed by me in Nvidia Gaugan ~ Female ~ Black illustrated rose ~ Blue Moon - Contributed to the #LIL by @mynatasha ~ Pure Fractal titled "Storm Clouds - Half Moon" ~ Pure Fractal titled "Red Strings" ~ Graveyard - designed by me in StarryAI ~ Dove - Contributed to the #LIL by @alex2alex.}