Sticking the Knife In

Tom, Fred, and John were sitting at the cafeteria table during lunchtime, discussing some of the local urban legends.



"According to my Uncle, his friend walked into the cemetery on a full moon, and at the stroke of midnight the hand of a skeleton reached up out of the ground and grabbed his leg," Tom explained as he twirled his fork around the pile of spaghetti on his plate.



"Yeah, whatever," John replied as he rolled his eyes.
"So, um, what happened then?" Fred stuttered as he stared at Tim with wide and fearful eyes.



"Well, they say that he was pulled down under the dirt and, trapped there, he died of suffocation," Tom answered, glancing back and forth at his two friends.



"Wow," Fred said as he broke a corner off his cornbread and popped it in his mouth.
"Get real. That's one of the oldest stories about Greywood Cemetery. Everyone knows it's a bunch of baloney." John said, looking at Tom with disdain.



"Okay then. Tomorrow night is a full moon. I dare you to stick a knife in the ground at midnight and leave it there. We'll check in the morning to see if you really did it." Tom answered, matching John's look with a smirk.
"Fine."
"Fine," Tom said as he shoved his hand across the table. John reached over his plate, grasped his friend's hand firmly, and shook it. The deal was made.



The next night, John crept silently into the dark end foreboding cemetery. It was far spookier than he remembered it seeming during the day. Finally, he found a fresh plot that had recently been filled in. He quickly removed the jack-knife from his jacket pocket, and unfolded the blade. As he watched the moon's reflection dance on the silver blade, he realized that his hand was shaking.



Whatever...it's just a story, just do it.

He squatted down, closed his eyes, and slammed the blade into the freshly packed earth. He waited a few moments.



Nothing.



Phew...
He went to stand u
p, and at that moment he felt a tug on his jacket. He tried harder to stand up and realized that something had a firm hold on his jacket and was pulling him down toward the ground. His heart froze and he screamed at the top of his lungs until all of his breath was expended, and he passed out.



The next morning, his friends found him asleep by the grave. As they woke him, he started to tell the story, and then they all quickly looked down at his jacket where he'd been grabbed and pulled. Immediately, Tom and Fred burst into hysterical laughter.



John just sat there staring at his jacket, with a corner pinned to the ground by the blade that he, himself, had thrust through it.