Do NOT ask me about the name please, It's just PURE giberish!
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Prolouge

The young girl stopped and timidly looked behind her, but could connect nothing to the sound she had just heard a moment before. So she continued walking, uneasy and on edge. She was coming back from the local temple of Ixranyeth and was passing through the cemetery on her way home, like she did every night. She made the walk every night and normally passing through the graveyard calmed her because it felt as though the souls below her were resting peacefully in their eternal abode.

But tonight was not right.

Her heart thudded in her chest as the blood rose to her head. Her body wished for armour to shield her from the night and whatever wickedness it concealed. She heard noises; a rustling; a whisper; silence…another horrible whisper; breathing, behind her – she shrieked and spun around.

Nothing was there.

She started walking faster. She just wanted out of this place. In the center of the cemetery was a large, dead tree. Its rickety branches hung out like the decrepit fingers of an old, rotting man, and they seemed to be reaching out for the girl.

Breathing. Hissing. More whispers. She dashed and looked behind her again but nothing was revealed. So many whispers, raspy and cold like death. They were coming from everywhere – behind her, beside her, below her!

When she turned forward she faced the ghostly tree. With the light of the full moon she saw that nooses had suddenly appeared on the tree and blew in the wind, in the manner of a sick and twisted ceremonial dance. But they weren’t normal nooses made of rope; with a mixture of disgust and horror she realized they were made of tightly bound human hair, stained with dry blood and fouled by the stench of no other but death.

Suddenly it all became dark. The whispers…the whispers…the moon had become completely eclipsed but the pale starlight managed to light up the cemetery in a dim, weak light. She gaped in horror as her eyes adjusted to the bleakness and she saw what had become of the nooses on the tree. Ghosts, spirits of the past, hung from the tree, their bluish, translucent forms dangling in the nooses. But they hung motionless and silent…yet the voices – the whispering.

SCREAMS!

SCREAMS ALL AROUND HER!

The hanged ghosts now thrashed about madly in pain like fish thrown on dry land, kicking and screaming violently. They were already dead and so they could feel no mortal pain. Yet still they lashed about as if they were, frantically trying to get away, to get out of that damned graveyard. What was going on? Out! All she wanted was to get out!

With a deafening rupture of sound, the dead gave the final cry of death as the night and all it enveloped grew ominously still. But she found no comfort in the silence. There was chaos in the air; there was hate;

There was Evil.

Whatever caused those ghosts such pain was still present. Something growled beside her. Behind her. There! Up in the tree! What was it? As soon as she laid her eyes upon it the creature leaped out of the tree like a cat pouncing on its prey and landed before her.

“Don’t kill me!” she pleaded as she dropped to her knees in fright, covering her face with her bare arms.

Its white teeth and ivory eyes smoldered with hatred in the dark, “Your fate is sealed; you are already dead.”

The voices! Oh gods, the voices! The shouting! The screams! The whispers…

The being grabbed her by the throat and drew her in as it sunk its fingers into her neck.

As her pitiful life was choked out and death resumed the ensuing vacancy, the being spoke to her and the whispering voices joined in.

The last words the girl heard were the Dark Lord’s promise of damnation for all now that he had returned.

That is really good.
Really spooky.

Thanks, I'll update it soon, chapter on is still eing worked on, I have chapter 2,3,4, and 5 allready written.