Tonight's 100 word terror tale is here! Ever wondered what your own funeral will look like?

A Small Gathering

So this is my funeral; a dismal turnout after half a century of life. My mother weeps, the others stand stony faced. Impassive.

Is this my fate? An eternity spent haunting the living. Unseen and it would seem, unlamented.

There’s somebody yawning. Maybe I’ll pay him a little visit later, see what harm I can do him.

My grave looks so deep, dark. I can’t even see the bottom.  I can hear voices coming from it, beckoning. Demanding.  Shapes rise to the surface and pull me down.

Down, down, deep into the cold, dank earth.

Then I see Him.