smokingboot

This crazy thing turned up in my head this morning.

Once there was a graveyard that was too busy. The dead refused to stay down, insisting on scrabbling out of their coffins up through the soil. Then they would roam around the stones til they came to the lich gate and tried to get through, but couldn't quite manage it. This is exactly why lich gates are designed in such a complicated way. They would stand there to moan sadly and terrify late night passers until dawn. Some even got out by breaking through the hedges, wandering into town and causing havoc.

Waiting by the gate were a devil and an angel who coaxed as best they could, but the dead were confused and afraid, and people of the town were never out of the church praying to be rid of the skeletons roaming the roads. This might be why the angel was so patient. The devil, however, saw how well this worked for enhancing faith, and condemned it as cheating. The angel smiled and said that were it indeed cheating the devil shouldn't mind a bit, and both nearly came to blows, even more frightening for the mortals who hid and swore judgment day was coming. So, recognising that the situation was untenable, angel and devil together sought out the gravedigger, a healthy young man whose job was turning his hair white.

'You can dig,yes?' Said the devil to the poor man, who nodded.
'We want you to dig out a great room for the dead,' added the angel, 'and you shall be paid in peace.'
The gravedigger protested. In other times he might have haggled because digging is heavy work and one cannot spend peace, but the last few weeks had been so fraught that payment was not his main concern.
'Suppose they harm me?' He said, 'and anyway, I cannot just go randomly digging on sacred ground!'
'No-one will condemn you,' pointed out the angel 'the priest himself scurries to the church looking neither right nor left.'
'He means the dead, foolish brightwing,' sneered his companion who then said to the man, 'we ourselves will guard you from the restless ones. Indeed, your work will send them back to quiet and goodwill.'

The gravedigger was not convinced seeing as this explanation came from a fiery entity with a pitchfork but it seemed prudent to agree. So he set to digging. Three nights under the full moon it took him, and when it was done the immortal pair gave him an even more ludicrous instruction.

'Put a television in it,' they said.

Thinking that his whole life had become a dream, the gravedigger obeyed. He found an old TV set and placed it at one end of the room, trying to ignore the sudden appearance of curious little imps and cherubs scurrying around laying cables.

'Very good,' said the angel, 'let us set up as many chairs as we can.'
And sure enough they did this.
'Now we wait,' said the devil.

Slowly came the dead, one by one, and each went up to the television, curious as to what to do with it. Eventually one of them switched it on and all the others sat down politely.

Every show that came on was the life of an audience member. They all watched engrossed, life after life. Some shows were old and crackly in black and white, others vibrant in bright colours. Many had uproarious moments (to the end of his days the gravedigger said nothing made him feel cold like the sight of the dead all laughing at once) many had tragic moments, and every single show had a point at which the subject turned their head away. The dead watched these shows over and over until one got up. It walked back to the angel, devil, and gravedigger.

'I don't want to watch this anymore,' said the skeleton. 'I am ready.'

With that, both angel and devil bowed to the dead and walked it away though the gravedigger never saw where they took it. He was too caught up in keeping an eye on the TV watching hoardes, ready to run if they turned on him. But they behaved well and in no time his companions returned.

Eventually every viewer followed suit, until the very last of them got up, sighed, turned the television off and came to the three at the back. This one said, just as the others all did;
'I am ready.' But it added more, turning to the gravedigger, its bone dry voice rattling, 'thank you for your work.'

The gravedigger, who had learned gravitas by this time, said a gracious farewell and bid the viewer good luck on its journey. Then away went the dead and angel and devil together and they did not return.

The gravedigger told the priest everything, and the latter was so flabbergasted he tried to persuade the gravedigger to fill the hole in completely, but the gravedigger refused.

'It is a comfort to them,' he said, 'and built at the behest of Heaven and Hell. However, I could brace the walls and build a roof, and none will know it is there save you and me.'

The priest agreed, and paid the man well to ensure the room was so properly sealed not even a rabbit could fall into it by accident. For his part, the gravedigger was content and thereafter lived a long peaceful life. The priest however, never went near that part of the churchyard and expressly forbade parishioners from doing so, especially around Halloween and Christmas when what sounded like TV shows and applauding audiences could be heard rising from deep underground into the midnight air.