Day 550

Some graveyards are so rarely visited by humans that they become havens for wildlife.
I've heard that there's one not too far from town but nobody I know has been there.
They can't remember if they have anyone buried there either.

I did a little looking into the place and found I had a great-great uncle at plot 154.
Didn't realise the place was so big for such a small area.
It only felt right to give the old lad a visit and see if the plot needed any seeing to.

From the outer side of the brick wall the place looks quiet and frankly rather nice.
The kind of place you could sit and think in for hours and hours.
Strange how different it seems from the inside.

Far more dilapidated than I'd expected, huge holes in every grave or so it seemed!
The graves looked rusty too, large brownish/orange-ish stains all over them.
And there were red squirrels darting about the place, must have been dozens of them.

They're hard to come by outside of Scotland but the graveyard seemed to full of the red buggers.
As I sat down on a wooden bench about halfway into the enormous graveyard, I found company.
A single red squirrel sitting on top of a tombstone, staring right at me.

It looked damp, like it had been swimming somewhere yet there wasn't a pond nearby that I knew of.
I reasoned that it might have fallen into one of the holes - some were fairly muddy.
As I looked closer I saw that it was dripping red water.

Now if I had left then and there I could have put it down to high iron levels in the water or something.
But no, I inched closer to it and smelt that familiar tang of blood.
As I stood up to leave I noticed a few red squirrels running into a hold by a newer looking grave.

They came out a short while later carrying wet clumps of red.
They looked a lot wetter than when they had gone in and then I noticed the final thing.
They weren't red squirrels, they were grey.