Hello everyone! Thanks for all your responses. I think my haunt is due for a name and story, and now's the perfect time since I'm trying to update it. Here's something I came up with in half an hour, let me know what you think.
The Horror of
Blackwood Cemetery
In 1754, a small group of settlers from England arrived in upstate New York. They began building their village on the banks of the Hudson River, and settled into life in the colonies. Of course, settlers began dying in the village, whether it be due to old age, illness, or anything else; and they were soon in need of a cemetery.
A group of men scouted the outskirts of the village for a suitable location, and soon found one. A larger group went to the site to further explore and begin clearing the land. However, their work was halted when one young man found an old hag living in a shack in the middle of the area. The village leader demanded her to leave, but she refused, and wouldn't budge from her rickety old hut. Work ceased, and a new site was found.
Work on this new site was just underway when livestock began disappearing from the village. The villagers were quick to blame it on wolves or coyotes, but when the village leader's young son was found too scared to speak, they began to suspect something more sinister. He finally managed to mutter, "Witch… hut… forest…" The village leader immediately suspected the old hag whose hut stood in the middle of the land which would have made a perfect cemetery. He gathered a mob, intent on discovering what the witch had done to his boy. They stormed into the forest on a dark October night, armed with torches, muskets, and all other sorts of weapons.
Once at the dilapidated shack, the men barged through the door and dragged the old woman out. Several others ransacked the hut for signs of witchcraft, and came back with jars of strange ingredients and a cauldron full of a mysterious green liquid. The men dragged her back to the village, where she was immediately tried and accused of witchcraft. Her sentence was death.
The next day, she was brought to the gallows, where all the villagers had gathered. The old hag was brought up onto the platform, and an uproar of angry shouts and curses came forth from the crowd. The witch snapped her bony fingers, and a bang as loud as cannon fire rendered the crowd silent. She began to speak in a cold, gravely voice:
You've brought me here to die, I see
But this curse will bring your misery.
For things alive that once were dead
Will fill your smallish hearts with dread.
Bodies buried in this land
Will not turn, as should, to sand.
Instead, they'll rise, on nights like this
And come forth, 'spite Death's own kiss,
To destroy and haunt your foolish town
'Til I return to this hallowed ground.
The villagers were frozen by fear, and the hag had perfect opportunity to escape. However, she simply stood on the platform cackling until the executioner regained his wits and slipped the noose 'round her neck. The villagers lived in fear for the next month, but they began to calm as things appeared normal. That all began to change the next year.
On an eerie fall night, several pigs and cats went missing from the village. The next day, a grave was found empty in the new cemetery. The villagers immediately recalled the old hag and her curse upon them all, and lived in the same fear that followed her execution. They were sure to lock their doors, and had trouble sleeping at night. Animals continued to disappear, and finally, on a particularly dark and foggy night, several small children disappeared.
Now the villagers realized that the curse must be coming true. They fled their small village, running until they reached a British fort. They spent the rest of their lives living there in fear, horrified of the witch's curse and what had become of their deceased loved ones.
It is said that the site of the settler's cemetery remains haunted to this day, and on cold fall nights, the curse brings life to all which were dead…