Whateley Family Graveyard

Chapter 1 ambient.
You've grown up here.
You know every road, alley way, and house in this small town.
But there has always been a shadowed place you've never seen.
The story of the Whateley's has been passed down over the last few generations, your father told you the ghost stories growing up that his father told him.
You were warned to stay away from the farm lands outside of town.
But tonight you've decided that you're brave enough to venture there.
The drive takes just over an hour, twisting and winding across back roads and country drives often having to backtrack or pull over to check your map. It shouldn't be this hard to find the dirt road that leads to the Whateley farm and you've lost more sunlight than you had planned, in fact the sun set a while ago but you're invested in this trip so you refuse to turn tail and head home. You're here alone, none of your friends were able or willing to take the adventure with you tonight.
You can't remember a night being this dark and the fact that you haven't seen a street light or house for the last half hour only adds to your stress.
There just ahead of you in your headlights is the fallen street sign marking the cross road you've been searching for, you've passed this spot a few times already but only now do you see the fallen sign.
Pulling in you drive as far along the road as your car can make it before you park and start to walk.
You push your way past the dead fall trees, junked out cars, and heaps of forgotten trash that block off the over grown dead-end to this dirt road you've been told to avoid your entire life.
The narrow walking path leads you under a sign that you can barely make out that reads "Whateley's Honey And Meats. EST: 1864" and leads to a vast graveyard.
You hop the rusted gate to explore what lays before you.
Running your hands over the weathered and crumbling tombstones you notice that the names are either weathered beyond the point of being legible or they have been purposefully destroyed as to hide the identity of those laid to rest.
The further you go into this haunted place you realize you've been subconsciously avoiding sink-holes, sidestepping soft spots and gaping pits throughout, when you find the shovel with fresh soil on it and the smashed lid of a casket it dawns on you that these aren't sink holes, and what makes your skin crawl is the notion that you're not alone here. Looking back it's impossible to tell which direction you came in from. The rows of tombstones all look the same in the dim light your phone gives off and it's all so confusing.
Your heart is racing with panic when you see in the far distance faint lights.
Here in the Whateley Graveyard you start your journey.

- Travthulu

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