The cemetery caretaker noticed that one of the graves did not freeze even in the most severe frost and remained green: then he decided to dig it up, and what he discovered underground plunged the old man into real horror.
When the cemetery caretaker noticed that one grave remained green even in the bitterest frost, he initially thought he was imagining things. In winter, the entire cemetery was covered in ice and snow. The stones turned white, the grass disappeared, and the ground became as hard as stone. He had worked there for over thirty years and knew every crack in the headstones, every tree by the fence.
But this grave never froze.
The tombstone read:
“To my beloved son
1999–2025.”
Snow lay all around, but not on it. The grass beneath the stone remained bright green, as if the earth were warm. At first, he thought someone tended the grave every day and simply cleared away the snow. He even began coming earlier than usual, before dawn, to check. No one was there.
Four mornings in a row, he arrived after dark. Everything around him was covered in frost, but the ground remained soft. He tried to convince himself it was a feature of the soil or old pipes underground, but his anxiety only grew.
On the fifth morning, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He picked up a shovel and approached the green spot. The earth gave way easily, as if it had recently been dug. The deeper he dug, the stronger the feeling became that he was doing something forbidden.
Less than a meter down, the blade struck metal. Not wood, not stone. Something dense and cold.
He stopped, slowly cleared the dirt with his hands, and realized it wasn’t a coffin. And that’s when things got truly creepy.
He carefully cleared the ground around the metal box and saw a thick cable running toward the old fence. The box was warm to the touch, despite the frost
The caretaker stood there for a long moment, unsure of what lay before him, and then carefully opened the lid. Inside was a simple heating element, connected to the power grid.
He followed the cable and saw that it had been carefully buried and led to an inconspicuous switchboard behind the chapel. Everything had been done meticulously and clearly not by accident. This wasn’t mysticism. It was someone’s stubbornness and pain.
A few days later, he noticed an elderly man who had arrived at the grave before dawn. He stood silently for a long time, then checked the connections in the electrical panel and adjusted the grass with his hands, as if afraid it would freeze.
When the caretaker approached, the man didn’t deny it. He quietly said that his son hated winter and always dreamed of spring.
After his death, my father couldn’t accept the fact that the ground above him would be cold and dead.
He arranged for an electrician to install underfloor heating and paid for the electricity for years, just so that the grass would always be green.
The caretaker didn’t answer. He just looked at the snow around him and at the green island in the middle of winter.
Sometimes people do strange things not for the sake of secrecy or deception, but because they don’t know how to let go. And from that day on, he never touched that grave again.