Episode 4 Script: The Letter from the Crypt

Episode 4: The Letter from the Crypt 

By Grace Antiedu.

Reverend Essel sat at his desk, the letter open in front of him, candlelight dancing across the faded ink.

His mind raced.

Abena Ntiamoah. A widow. Died in her sleep. Buried quietly behind St. Paul’s Chapel.

He remembered the funeral -the soft rain, the hymns, the cheap wooden casket. He remembered blessing the grave.

But not... what was beneath it.

The letter’s words echoed in his head:

He is still with me. He will not let me sleep.

Essel returned to the cemetery the next day. He walked past the weeping palms and broken headstones to the far corner where Abena lay.

Or so he thought.

The grave marker had split.

Beneath it, the ground sagged -like something had shifted inside.

The next night, he went back with a lantern and a shovel.

Alone.

He dug for hours. Sweat soaked his collar. The earth resisted, as if it didn’t want to be opened. But then -he struck wood.

The coffin.

He pried it open, expecting the silent remains of an old woman.

But inside .…were two bodies.

Abena was curled on one side.

And beside her, face turned toward hers, was a man in a tattered suit -mouth open, eyes wide, as though he’d died screaming.

His hand was wrapped tightly around her wrist.

And there were scratch marks inside the coffin lid.

From both of them.

She died in peace. He did not. Now, he keeps her awake.

Reverend Essel stumbled back from the grave, heart slamming against his ribs.

Two bodies.

One grave.

The records had said nothing about another burial. No second coffin. No reinterment. And yet, there he was -a man buried beside Abena, face twisted, fingers curled in death around her wrist like he refused to let go.

Essel examined the body again, forcing himself to breathe.

The man’s fingernails were cracked and bloodied.

The scratches in the coffin lid .....came from the inside.

Whoever he was, he had died clawing for escape.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

A folded note lay wedged between the bodies, stained and barely legible.

It read:

If you are reading this, it means I failed. She belongs to me. Even death can’t take her from me. Tell the priest not to interfere again.

There was no signature.

Just a smear of something black -not ink -and the distinct scent of mold and old roses.

That night, Essel returned to the church.

And found muddy footprints leading from the altar to the baptismal font.

In the pews sat a figure, hunched in prayer. Still. Silent.

He approached, heart pounding.

“Ma’am?” he whispered. “Mrs Ntiamoah?

The figure slowly lifted its head.

It wasn’t her.

It was him -the man from the grave.

His lips barely moved, but the words came like a gust of wind in a crypt:

“You opened the door. Now close it…Or join us".

 If the dead cannot rest, neither will the living. The end of episode 4.