In the quiet, shadowed village of Edgetown, a small cemetery stood between the dense forests bordering the village. Few of the residents ever visited it; the graves were old, the families had long moved away or forgotten, and the memories of the departed had faded with time. But there was one soul who kept the cemetery alive, even as the dead beneath it decayed: the grave keeper, a quiet man known simply as "Bones."

Bones had lived his entire life in the village. Though the villagers often whispered about his strange fascination with death, none could deny his diligence. Every day, from sunrise to sunset, Bones would be found among the graves, tending to the land, cleaning the gravestones, and placing fresh flowers on the markers that had long been abandoned. He did his work silently, with no family or friends. His only companions were the names etched in stone, slowly eroded by time.

It was said that Bones could feel the spirits of those laid to rest. He believed that even those long-forgotten deserved respect and care. While the villagers went on with their lives, Bones ensured that the resting place of the dead remained sacred. For years, this was his routine, undisturbed, until the plague came.

The plague swept through the village with the force of a hurricane, claiming lives swiftly and mercilessly. Bodies piled up faster than the villagers could bury them, and many were laid to rest in shallow graves without ceremony. Bones worked tirelessly, night and day, digging graves and marking each one with a simple wooden cross, determined to provide some semblance of dignity to the victims.

But even Bones could not escape the plague's touch. One fateful morning, after laying yet another body to rest, he felt the first cough rattle through his chest. Weakness followed, and within days, Bones succumbed to the fate he had spent his life guarding against. The village buried him in an unmarked grave, hurriedly covering his body without a second thought. They moved on, leaving the cemetery and its forgotten guardian behind.

But Bones did not rest.

On the first night after his burial, a thick and suffocating mist rolled in over the village. Bones' spirit rose from his grave, his skeletal form glowing faintly in the moonlight. His ghostly visage was unsettling, a spectral figure with an intricately drawn skeleton on his translucent white form, as though death had claimed his flesh but left behind a reminder of his lifelong work.

Bones walks the cemetery every night, bound to the graves he once tended. His duty is no longer to care for the dead but to protect them. Those who wander into the cemetery after dark—teenagers seeking thrills, vandals looking to destroy—are met with his chilling presence. He moves silently through the mist, his hollow eyes glowing with a faint, eerie light. Those who disrespect the dead are never seen again, their fate sealed by the grave keeper who now guards both the living and the dead.

As the years pass, the villagers begin to tell stories of the cemetery ghost, the spectral figure with bones etched into his form. They call him "Bones," unaware that it is the very man who once cared for their ancestors' graves. His name becomes a legend, a tale told to frighten children and caution those who might dare to disturb the dead. Yet Bones remains forever bound to the forgotten cemetery, guarding the resting place of souls who deserve peace, just as he did in life.

In death, he is the last keeper of memories. This silent sentinel ensures that no soul is ever forgotten.