By Jack Hell

I live in a small cottage in one corner of a large cemetery. It was nice until the other day.

I awoke at four o’clock in the morning to the sound of something heavy being moved outside. As it was spring, the sun was already coming up, so I peered through the window to see what was happening. There were three men in black suits around a tomb trying to slide the heavy tomb stone away. They were clearly in a hurry as they didn’t seem to care about damaging the stone. When there was enough of a gap, one man took a long pitchfork and started to stab it into the tomb, presumably to smash open the coffin. Soon came the crack of wood as the coffin split, and after some further smashing the man began to carefully aim the fork into the tomb as though trying to skewer the corpse. Sure enough, he soon beckoned for the assistance of another man and with some speed the two of them slid the corpse out of the grave, as easy as sliding steak out of a frying pan. With the pitchfork and skewered corpse over his shoulder, the man and his conspirators ran off.

I called the police.