Would you call out a Demon just to prove it doesn't exist? For what if it does exist, what then?

Why tempt something just to prove it doesn't exist? For indeed what if it does exist? All legends, no matter if they are pleasant and nice or dark and dangerous, come from somewhere. They need a point of origin; yeah, there is many a story, many a legend that comes from the minds of ordinary or perhaps not so ordinary people.

Fathers and mothers putting their restless children's minds at ease telling of make-believe fairies and little people, toy bunny rabbits that come to life when the child sleeps, protecting their dreams and keeping them safe until the morning comes.

Many a storyteller comes up with new ideas or reinvents old ones. Ghosts and ghouls, restless spirits beyond the trees so deep in the forest that if one were to seek one out then such a spirit would prevent you from ever leaving that forest again. Tales of lost souls walking long stretches of road from which they lost their life upon, having returned to seek some kind of revenge.

Then there are stories which become skewed or embellished in its retelling, becoming so much more than what they initially set out to be. And yeah, there are stories, legends based in reality, stories based on actual events so unbelievable that they become legend.

Indeed, one would definitely wonder why a legend would be challenged especially in the off chance that it really is based in reality and more importantly one would wonder why another would take on a legend where in order to challenge that certain legend one would have to perpetrate a horrible act or crime.

In the small city-like out of the way community of Castletown, serious crime is next to being completely eradicated as there is a story, a legend that ensures the safety of those who live within the town's confines. In this lies its own problem. Since everyone knows of this legend, there will always be those who will not only want to challenge said legend but actually see it through or prove it to not only be unrealistic but untrue too.

There have been many who do want to make a challenge but never will, though there will always be someone who has never before committed a serious crime and potentially never would have committed a serious crime who will do so in an attempt to evoke the legend or publically dismiss it as being nothing more than something spoken a long time ago and carried on through the years to deter future wrongdoing.

As it goes, if one were to commit a crime especially a crime which sees another harmed in any way, shape or form then he will come for said perpetrator to deliver his own brand of justice for he knows who is guilty, there can be no denial, if you are guilty, he will come for you, see right through you and he will get you. He will be your judge, jury, and executioner, punishing you however he sees fit. The worse the crime committed, the more devastating the harm inflicted, the worse the punishment.

He is other worldly, some say a spirit, some say a demon, everyone knows him as The Undertaker for more often than not, he will bury those he comes for and those he does come for do not necessarily need to die prior to being buried.

The story even goes so far to the point that this Undertaker even has his own cemetery, his own section of land hidden within the town where those he lays to rest are gathered together six feet underground, marked only with a small nameless wooden cross.

Can you imagine not wanting to find out that this legend really exists, for in order to prove that it does, you must commit a crime, the worse the crime the more likely he will come for you, and if you kill ... as the legend goes ... you can rest assure that your own death comes soon and your final resting place will be within a grave in The Undertaker's cemetery.

Harold Bradley is a teaching professor who has been living in Castletown and teaching within Castletown's one and only university for close to twenty years. He is not a native of Castletown nor had he ever come close to this town prior to be being offered tenure within its university. The offer made to him was such that he simply could not refuse it.

From early on, Harold heard the stories, he heard of the legend and at first, he thought it interesting though also thought it to be nothing with which university students should be getting too excited over. One thing he could not understand was that other lecturers at the university were just as focused on the legend and even appeared to fear a possible appearance of The Undertaker as much as the students did.

Nonsense, it is all nonsense. In all his years Harold Bradley has never heard the likes of what it is that goes around this town he had come to. His neighbours all knew of the legend, people in the local pubs and shops would even discuss it and when papers began to be handed in to him and being based of the town's odd legend ... well that just topped the biscuit.

Twenty years, twenty years he had to deal with this. Twenty years it slowly ate away at him to the point it has even come to destroy him. A calm intelligent man over time turned into the typical mad professor. It drove him so crazy that he finally snapped. He was going to prove to his students, he was going to prove to the whole town that myths and legends do not exist.

Harold Bradley sat in silence behind his classroom desk. This in itself was quite odd for Professor Bradley never sat in that classroom of his. The lectures he gave always had him standing. On this particular day, the lecture he would offer or attempt to offer would begin silently.

His students entered the room and a silence soon tool precedence. The silence did not last long for whispers soon began. What's wrong with his ...? Looks like he has finally snapped, such comments soon passed around the room. A silent fear soon took over among all within the room for Professor Harold Bradley took a gun, a revolver, out of his briefcase and placed it upon his desk.

Silence lasts until one student asks a one-word question ... 'Sir? ...'

The professor slowly gets up out of his seat, moves around his desk then sits upon it. 'Let's test this legend, shall we? Finally lay it to rest ...'

'Sir ... I don't think that is a good idea ...'

'You don't, huh?' the gun is picked up and the professor moves towards the student who had only just spoken.

Eyes open wide as the Professor closes in on that particular student, the one who questioned him. He takes aim, the student flinches, many students flinch, and one shot is fired. A left arm is gripped by a right hand. When the right hand is removed from the aim it had taken ... it comes clear that there is blood, a lot of blood. The professor had shot a student in the arm, then as if all this is perfectly normal, he takes a look around the room and begins to move backwards towards his desk.

'So where is he? Where is this legendary figure, huh? ... What is taking him so long? Why isn't he showing himself, huh? You see how dumb you all are ... can't you see?'

From the back of the room a student stands and calmly walks towards the front of the room.

'Where do you think you are going?'

The student doesn't reply, he simply and calmly moves towards the exit.

'I asked you a question' continues the professor and again there is no reply.

The professor takes aim and shoots this student in the back. It takes a second or two before a collapse to the ground occurs, something the particular student will never rise from. If the first fired shot hadn't created shock, it did, then the second one most definitely did. Seconds pass before a physical reaction occurs. Students quickly rise from their seats and rush the exit and as they do this, four more shots are made, all four of which find victims.

Giving himself into the moment, the professor returns to his seat behind his desk, one way or another he has ruined his life. There still is yet to be any appearance of what it is he aimed to disprove though no matter if it comes of not, the Professor must pay for his actions.

He holds his head in his hands, his elbows upon the desk, lost within his own mind until a sound disturbs him. Bar himself and the destruction he created; the room has come to be empty. A single gong sounds from the very back of the auditorium like room. Professor Harold Bradley takes a look and sees nothing out of the ordinary. A second gong sounds out and it is soon followed by the opening of a vortex.

Is it real? Is he really coming? No, it cannot be so but perhaps it is. A dark light turns bright, is there a silhouette standing there? The light turns dark again. One of the fallen students still has consciousness. He attempts to move up of from the floor, he sees what occurs. Though given his own condition he can never fully understand what it is he believes is occurring.

From that day on Professor Harold Bradley has never seen again and no matter what story a surviving student can ever tell, it has to be believed that there is yet another wooden marking taking up a spot somewhere in ... The Undertaker's Cemetery ...