WHO: Open to everyone eventually
WHAT: Things are about to
get bad, like real badWHERE: Old Burying Point Cemetery
WHEN: Tuesday, October 24, 9:12 PM
WHY: Because it's what's been building toward and no one figured out to stop it
STATUS: Complete
Salem was a bustling hub in the week leading up to Halloween. The streets were full of families, kids stuffed with candy and not enough sleep, non-magical folk dressed as witches, and a fair smattering of magical folk just going around their business.There were easily a half dozen events happening around the town tonight, which was impressive for a Tuesday. The biggest draw was the Old Burying Point Cemetery and the well marketed "Graveyard Conjure."
The no-maj, Edgar Smith, a claimed descendent of Judge Hathorne, hosted the event every year. He would call on the spirits of the dead, showing those who bought their tickets how to tap into the awesome power of the graveyard dirt. Ryan Sewall not so privately thought he was a full on fraud and often held his own smaller events in a similar vein. Sewall wasn't out tonight, he kept his distance from Smith. Sewall did his best to flirt with, but never violate the statue of secrecy. For all that Smith was a no-maj he came awfully close to revealing the magical world to dozens of tourists regularly. Not that the no-majs were any wiser, but it put the local magical community on watch.
The Old Burying Point Cemetery was the second oldest cemetery in the United States. To local history buffs it was the final resting place of many involved in the Salem Witch Trials. However, many had believed the dirt to be sacred, imbued with fantastic magical power and they weren't wrong. The issue was in knowing how to use it and many lacked the skill.
That was until someone opened a valve and the whole town lit up as a beacon of untapped potential.
Through out the evening the cemetery seemed charged in a way that had everyone enthralled and into the spirit of the night. Those in attendance to the early tours would later say it was the best tour of their lives. As the night went on, that shifted into seeing something move out of the corner of your eye, or that feeling of someone watching, lingering just a hair too close.
It was shortly after nine, only two tour groups in the cemetery then, when the ground seemed to rumble. At first it could have been simply a truck driving past.
Then a few minutes later it happened again, and there were no trucks to be seen.
And again. But this time with the trees by the Salem Witch Trials Memorial swaying as if boats on the ocean.