It was cold and the downpour washed away the mud under your feet while you dug in the ground. You couldn't accept his death, you couldn't accept that he was gone, so you're here now, digging his grave to see his face one last time.

Three hours have passed, you lie in your lover's grave in tears, drenched by the rain, until the bright light of the lantern disturbs you. It was the cemetery caretaker.

A tall, skinny guy who had obviously been working here recently was shining his lantern at you and didn't know whether to chase you away or call the police.

"Oh my God, what are you... necrophiliac... Satanist?" he said but immediately regretted it when he saw the desperation in your eyes. He immediately realised you were out of your mind with longing. "Look..., I promise not to call the police, just..... get out of the hole and come with me."