Lurking Among the Graves: A High-Tension Supernatural Horror Story "Six Feet"
Game plan
In this spine-chilling episode of Doorway To Nightmare, titled "Six Feet," an isolation-driven job takes a deeply disturbing turn into creature feature horror and high-tension psychological suspense.
A solitary caretaker spends his days and nights maintaining the sprawling grounds of a massive, quiet cemetery. To the outside world, he is just a quiet man tending to the dead. But beneath the manicured grass and shifting soil lies a calculated, deadly secret. An ancient, ravenous entity is lurking deep under the graves—and the caretaker has been keeping it hidden. But a monster’s hunger cannot be easily satisfied, and as the bodies begin to pile up, the creature's appetite grows completely out of control. With the walls closing in and the local community starting to ask too many questions, the caretaker realizes he is no longer the master of the graveyard—he is just another item on the menu.
Tune into this gripping, full-cast horror audio play to discover who survives when a sacred sanctuary becomes a permanent concrete prison.
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Speaker 1: It lies in wait amidst your dreams where nothing is ever how it seems. It is a portal to a terrifying world beyond the doorway to nightmare. Nightmare. Come in. Welcome. I'm Artemis Black. Our world consists of what we perceive to be reality. We see, feel, hear, taste, and touch. But do you ever wonder what could be lying underneath?
Speaker 2: Hey.
Speaker 3: Did you hear that?
Speaker 4: It's only the wind.
Speaker 3: Oh, there's something else. I can't describe it. Just the sound underneath the wind.
Speaker 4: I think you've been hitting that bottle a little too much tonight. There.
Speaker 3: Didn't you hear that?
Speaker 4: Brad, I only hear the wind. Believe me, working out in the cemetery, you think you hear all kinds of strange noises.
Speaker 5: Tom, that wasn't just a strange noise. That sounded like something trying to get out of its premature grave. And I don't want to be here when it does.
Speaker 1: Our mystery drama, Six Feet, was adapted from the short story and written especially for Doorway to Nightmare by Winslow Swan and edited by Crimson McKenzie. Our stars include Nick Davis, William Stafford, and Crimson McKenzie. I'll be back shortly with Act One. The wealthiest place on earth is not a gold mine, oil field, or even a bank, but a cemetery. In there are companies that were never started, masterpieces that were never painted, and the greatest treasure of untapped potential, wrote Miles Monroe.
Speaker 1: For some, the cemetery can be a peaceful place for reflections. Or it can easily be a place of pure evil.
Speaker 4: Tom?
Speaker 6: Tom Watson?
Speaker 4: Who might you be, miss?
Speaker 6: I'm Emily Maynard from the Herald.
Speaker 4: Ah, one of those reporters who've been all over town asking questions.
Speaker 6: That's what we do.
Speaker 4: What brought you all the way out here?
Speaker 6: Well, you have to admit, it is a little strange that all the people who disappeared were last seen heading this way.
Speaker 4: You must have been listening to the stories about old Tom Watson.
Speaker 6: Your name has came up quite a bit.
Speaker 4: I'm sure that it has, since I'm probably the oldest living resident of Cassius Valley.
Speaker 6: I'd like to ask.
Speaker 4: My folks were born here. as well as my grandparents. For all I know, my great-grandfather founded this little town. I'm not sure why the city council would have sent you to me.
Speaker 6: Oh, no. They had nothing to do.
Speaker 4: Want to put me in a home, tear down this little shack, and make room for more graves, is it? I've been the caretaker here for 40 years. 40 years, do you hear me? And I'm not going anywhere.
Speaker 2: Anywhere.
Speaker 6: Believe me, Mr. Watson, that is not the reason for my visit. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?
Speaker 4: Me? Not much to tell. My parents died when I was 15. A car accident. I left school, joined the army, caught a piece of shrapnel in my head, and got a high school diploma and a hefty check, courtesy of our government. When I moved back here, The only job available was this one, and I've been here ever since. Not bad for a 72-year-old.
Speaker 6: Wow. Well, why do you stay?
Speaker 4: I like it. It's peaceful out here. The cemetery has been here since the 1700s. I wouldn't be surprised if George Washington slept in a tent over one of those graves. I mean, before it was a grave.
Speaker 6: What do you do here?
Speaker 4: I keep the grounds clean. Grass mowed, weeds pulled up. I dig graves when needed.
Speaker 6: A man of your age?
Speaker 4: I beg your pardon. I'll have you know that I'm the best grave digger in three states. Oh, that stupid council always wanted to bring a backhoe in to do it. That's sacrilegious to me. A grave is a sacred, hallowed thing. It should be another human being to dig it, not some cold machine. That's just respect.
Speaker 6: That is amazing. You've been doing this for 40 years?
Speaker 4: Oh, I can tell you who is where without even looking at the records or the map.
Speaker 6: You have a map?
Speaker 4: Sure. Look, this place is over 15 acres. Thousands of souls are resting here. The map just tells me where they are and what plots are still available.
Speaker 6: Sounds like a rather large job.
Speaker 4: Sure it is.
Speaker 6: And you don't mind living out here all alone?
Speaker 4: What do you mean?
Speaker 6: Well, I don't think that I would be able to sleep in the middle of a cemetery, especially at night.
Speaker 4: It's not as bad as you might think. Although, there was something that happened out here you might call strange.
Speaker 6: What happened?
Speaker 4: It was July, I think, about ten years ago. I was digging a grave for the deceased mayor of our little town. Rest his soul.
Speaker 6: What better time? I'm sorry. Please continue.
Speaker 4: I wanted to make it special. For a special client. My friend, Brad Wilkins, decided to pay me a visit. And I was just finishing up.
Speaker 2: Hello.
Speaker 1: Hello.
Speaker 3: You around?
Speaker 4: Yeah. Right here, Bratt.
Speaker 3: Gee, you scared the life out of me.
Speaker 4: I've been telling you to turn up your hearing aid. I suppose crawling out of a grave would be a little scary.
Speaker 3: Every horror movie I've ever seen came flooding back. Don't do that. You almost gave me a heart attack.
Speaker 4: Now don't go making me dig two holes tonight.
Speaker 3: How much longer are you going to be?
Speaker 4: Just finished up. Let's go up to the shack. I got some stew simmering on the stove.
Speaker 3: Now you're talking.
Speaker 4: Oh, come on. You really came for my stew?
Speaker 3: Of course not. That's just an added bonus.
Speaker 5: I'm here for the buck and a half I'm going to take from you when you play gin rummy.
Speaker 6: He sounds like a nice gentleman.
Speaker 4: Oh, he was the town character. Always rode this old bike. Clothes that had more patches than materials. but was one of the smartest men you would ever meet. And one of the richest.
Speaker 6: Really? How so?
Speaker 4: He once told me that he had four patents that were snatched up by whatever industry they affected. Of course, he was always telling wild stories.
Speaker 6: You did call him the town character.
Speaker 4: He took me to his house once and let me see his safe. I swear, if I were a violent man, I would have killed him. and been in South America living the good life. Good thing I didn't do that.
Speaker 6: Why is that?
Speaker 4: He gave me the combination to the safe, and told me it was all mine if anything ever happened to him.
Speaker 6: Now that's a motive if ever I've heard one.
Speaker 4: No, I made him put it in writing. You should have seen the look on the clerk at the court's face when she filed it. Oh, she thought we were just two old guys having a bit of fun.
Speaker 6: But why wouldn't he have kept it in a bank?
Speaker 4: Didn't trust them.
Speaker 1: Never did.
Speaker 4: Anyway, I'm getting away from my story. We were headed back to my shack when... Sure is a quiet night.
Speaker 5: I have never understood why you live way out here. It's all so creepy.
Speaker 4: You get used to it.
Speaker 1: Hey, you hear that?
Speaker 4: Uh, that's just the wind blowin'. No, no.
Speaker 3: It sounded like.
Speaker 4: Like what? That stew's been simmering for almost an hour, and my stomach's telling me it's time to eat.
Speaker 3: Just give it a minute, will you? Maybe it'll happen again.
Speaker 4: Come on, Brad. I'm hungry. Besides, I think you've turned your hearing aid up a bit too.
Speaker 1: Much.
Speaker 3: Give it a few more.
Speaker 2: There.
Speaker 3: Do you hear it?
Speaker 1: The author Kurt Vonnegut once said that it's a small world. especially when you put it in a cemetery. But what things lurk in the dark after the sun goes down?
Speaker 1: I'll be back shortly with Act Two.
Speaker 4: Act Two.
Speaker 1: Norman Vincent Peale once said that the only people who don't have problems are in the cemetery. Unless you just happen to be walking through one.
Speaker 3: Don't you hear that?
Speaker 4: I'm telling you, it's just the wind. Now come on. The soup is going to simmer away if we don't... Now where are you going?
Speaker 3: Sounds like it's coming from over here.
Speaker 4: That's just the grave I dug. Nothing in there but dirt.
Speaker 3: How deep did you go?
Speaker 4: Six feet, like always.
Speaker 3: You ever wonder why it's six feet?
Speaker 6: I've often wondered about that.
Speaker 4: Would you like some tea? I just made a fresh pot.
Speaker 6: Thank you. That would be nice.
Speaker 1: Sugar? Lemon?
Speaker 4: Milk?
Speaker 6: Oh, no thank you.
Speaker 4: Six feet deep. During the Black Plague in 1665, the mayor of London declared that to keep bodies from spreading disease.
Speaker 6: I wondered where it came from. You are quite knowledgeable for a.
Speaker 4: An old fart. I know a little about a lot of things. How's your tea?
Speaker 6: Quite good. Thank you. So, what happened with your friend?
Speaker 4: He started to walk up to that hole in the ground. There was a full moon, and the gravestone seemed to glow in the light. I watched him as he got closer to the open grave and... Hey, Brad. Watch where you are standing. Wouldn't want you to fall in.
Speaker 5: You ever wonder what might be deeper than six feet?
Speaker 4: More dirt. Never really gave it much thought.
Speaker 5: I mean, this place has been here for a long time. Maybe even millions of years.
Speaker 4: The cemetery is old, but I don't think it's that old.
Speaker 3: No, Tom.
Speaker 5: I mean the ground itself. We just dig down six feet, plant the body, and never wonder what might be further down.
Speaker 4: Do you stay up at night thinking about this stuff?
Speaker 3: They've found fossils in less ground, you know.
Speaker 4: I think I hear that stew calling us.
Speaker 3: I swear that sounds like it's coming.
Speaker 4: From now, Brad. I told you, don't get too close to that. Brad!
Speaker 6: Brad!
Speaker 1: Help me!
Speaker 6: What happened?
Speaker 4: I was looking at Brad, just standing next to that open hole. He just disappeared.
Speaker 6: Did he trip and fall in?
Speaker 4: No, he didn't just fall in. It was like something had pulled him in. Like it had yanked him and grabbed him from behind and pulled him down.
Speaker 6: What did you do?
Speaker 4: I ran up to the grave and turned on the flashlight I always carried and looked down. He wasn't there.
Speaker 6: What do you mean, he wasn't there?
Speaker 4: I should have seen a body at the bottom, but Brad wasn't there. Grabbed the shovel and jumped down, thinking that maybe the wall had collapsed and buried him. It's okay, buddy. I'm coming. Jesus, what the hell was that?
Speaker 1: What the hell?
Speaker 4: Looks like a tentacle. Like an octopus tentacle. Holy, it's disappearing.
Speaker 6: You say that you saw this thing, and then you, what, dropped it?
Speaker 4: No, it was there. I felt it. I picked it up and started rubbing the dirt off of it. The more dirt fell away the more transparent it became until it was invisible. I could still feel it in my hands, but it wasn't there.
Speaker 6: What did you do?
Speaker 4: Climbed out that hole, went back to my shack, and finished off a bottle of whiskey.
Speaker 6: But what happened to the tentacle?
Speaker 4: I dropped it. Couldn't find it again. But that sound, that little girl sighing just below the wind, sent a chill down my spine. The mayor's funeral was the next day, I spent most of it laying in my bed trying to drink away the horror of Brad, the tentacle, and that sigh. That little girl sigh. It sounded sad. More like someone crying softly. And the nightmares.
Speaker 1: They were bad. Really bad.
Speaker 4: That damn tone could have stayed with me for days. I could hear it every time the wind blew. I tried to find it. but couldn't, so I just kept drinking.
Speaker 1: Would you like another cup? Yes.
Speaker 3: So what happened?
Speaker 4: Well, there was another funeral the next day, which meant I had to dig another hole. It was the other side of the cemetery. You kind of get a feel for how deep you've gone after you've been doing it for so long. I made sure the walls were perfect as usual, But then I heard it again. I started digging deeper. I didn't care if the walls caved in. I just wanted to know what was making that sound.
Speaker 2: I started digging. I watched the ground move. I saw a tentacle raising up out of the ground. I thought I was about to be dragged wherever Brad had gone. I watched it almost mesmerized. as it started to gently caress my cheek.
Speaker 1: Having a fence around the cemetery, I believe, is rather foolish. The ones inside cannot come out, and the ones outside don't want to go in. Unless there is another reason, which I don't like to think about. You think about returning with me with Act 3 shortly. There is a quiet place in any town you may visit. Lots want in. Few are selected for the right price. No worries or cares. Not a moment of stress or even thinking about tomorrow. We call these little neighborhoods cemeteries.
Speaker 4: How's your tea?
Speaker 6: Very good. So what happened?
Speaker 4: I felt that tentacle near my face. It seemed to lick my cheek like a small puppy might do. I felt it wrap itself around me, like giving me a hug before sliding back into the ground.
Speaker 6: If you want my opinion, I think your tentacle came straight out of one of those bottles of whiskey you have.
Speaker 4: I don't expect you to believe me. I'm just telling you what happened.
Speaker 6: So what did happen?
Speaker 4: I wondered why. Why Brad and not me. And then it hit me. What if this thing was something older than our world itself? An alien who had crashed on our planet and simply gone to sleep. Perhaps something that science had not discovered yet. But I had an idea. I started digging up graves all over the cemetery. I started with one of the newer ones, specifically the mayor's.
Speaker 6: What?
Speaker 4: I reached the coffin. I carefully opened it. The body was gone. The base of the coffin was also gone. Only the ground underneath was visible. I scrambled out of that hole, and I picked another one. On the other side of the cemetery, it was the same. The bottom of the coffin had been ripped away And the body was missing. I spent the rest of the day digging up graves, finding the same thing. Didn't matter how old.
Speaker 1: Or new they were.
Speaker 4: Bottom of the coffin gone, along with the body.
Speaker 6: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Well, that was a fascinating story, Mr. Watson.
Speaker 4: Believe it or not, that's what happened.
Speaker 6: Would you like to know what I think?
Speaker 4: Yes, I really would.
Speaker 6: I believe that you murdered Brad and buried him in that grave that was eventually going to house the mayor.
Speaker 1: Really?
Speaker 6: I also believe that you've been killing people that come out here for some reason or another.
Speaker 4: And what brought you to that conclusion?
Speaker 6: I checked on a few things. Whenever there is another funeral, there is another disappearance. You see, you dig the graves, you murder your victim, and then just dig a little deeper for the body.
Speaker 4: An interesting theory, but completely wrong. How is your tea?
Speaker 6: It is rather good. I'm sorry, I don't know what is making me so tired.
Speaker 4: Could possibly be the pills I put into the tea.
Speaker 6: Wait, what?
Speaker 4: You see, whatever is under the ground around the cemetery has been there for a long time. When this place was made into a cemetery, it woke up. It found a very fertile supply of food.
Speaker 6: What's happening to me?
Speaker 4: I think whatever it is didn't take me because it knows I'm its caretaker.
Speaker 6: What did you do to me?
Speaker 4: I'm saving you from the horror of being eaten alive. It doesn't mind the bodies from the mortuary, but like all of us, It does prefer fresh meat.
Speaker 1: As Emily slips into that dark whirlpool of unconsciousness, her mind screams out for help. Tom, taking her limp body, carries her to a recently dug grave. I'll be back with a final word. The cemetery is a place of peaceful rest. No one there has cares or worries. If now you have something to worry about the next time you see one, perhaps we have done our job to bring your nightmares to a frightening reality. Our cast included Mick Davis, Crimson McKenzie, and William Stafford. The story was edited by Crimson McKenzie, and the production was under the direction of Winslow Swan.
Speaker 1: This is your host, Artemis Black, inviting you to return with us through the doorway to nightmare for another adventure into the world of your terrifying imagination. Until next time, slumber peacefully. Epilogue. The butler did it.
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