Lucy had always dreamed of studying abroad, and London seemed like the perfect place. The excitement of living in a new city, immersing herself in a foreign culture, and making new friends filled her with anticipation. Her flat, though small and a bit run-down, was conveniently located near her university. The only downside? It overlooked a massive, ancient cemetery, one that had been untouched for over a millennium.

From the moment Lucy arrived, she felt uneasy about the cemetery. It wasn't just its size or the ancient tombstones that stretched far into the distance - it was something deeper, a sense of being watched. Her friends brushed off her concerns, laughing and assuring her that nothing had been buried there for over a thousand years. But instead of comforting her, that only made things worse. Why was it still here, looming over her flat?

The first night in her flat, Lucy's dreams were normal. But as the days passed, nightmares crept into her sleep like shadows. Every night, she woke in a cold sweat, her heart pounding, unable to shake the images from her mind. Her dreams always involved the cemetery. One night, she dreamed that she and her friends were hiking up a hill, the sun shining bright, the air crisp. But as they ascended, she noticed tombstones scattered along the path. At first, they seemed random - one here, one there - but as they neared the summit, the number of tombstones increased. By the time they reached the top, they were standing in a full cemetery, hidden in plain sight.

Panic rose in Lucy's chest, and when she turned to run, something leapt at her from the shadows. She woke up screaming, her heart racing, her sheets soaked with sweat. But as real as the fear felt, her friends dismissedit. "It's just paranoia," they told her. "You're stressed. The girl who lived there before you was weird like that too, always complaining about the cemetery."

But Lucy couldn't shake the feeling. Each night, the nightmares worsened, the presence of the cemetery seeping into her mind like a fog. She tried staying awake at night, napping during the day when she could, but exhaustion eventually caught up with her.

One night, while attempting to stay awake, Lucy dozed off involuntarily. Her dream felt different this time, more vivid, more terrifying. She found herself standing at the entrance of the cemetery, staring through the iron gates. A voice called out to her, soft and distant, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. Her heart screamed at her to run, to stay away, but her feet moved on their own, stepping into the cemetery, drawn toward the voice like a moth to a flame.

The fog thickened around her as she walked deeper into the graveyard, the tombstones barely visible through the haze. The voice called to her again, leading her down a winding path. She wanted to stop, to turn back, but her body refused to listen. Finally, she reached a clearing. The fog thinned just enough for her to see what lay ahead: an old, rusted merry-go-round, abandoned in the center of the cemetery.

Lucy froze. The sight made no sense - why would a children's ride be here? But instead of horses or carriages, the seats were coffins and tombstones. As she stood there, rooted to the spot, the merry-go-round began to turn, slowly creaking to life. An eerie, haunting melody filled the air, growing louder with each rotation.

Every fiber of Lucy's being screamed at her to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She could only watch in horror as the ridespun, revealing a figure sitting in one of the coffins. It was an old woman, her face hidden behind a veil of red lace. With each turn of the merry-go-round, the woman drew closer, her veiled face becoming clearer. Lucy tried to scream, but her voice was swallowed by the music.

The old woman's hand reached out toward her, the lace veil brushing against her skin, sending shivers down her spine. Lucy's breath came in short, terrified gasps as the woman came closer, until she was mere inches away. Lucy's feet felt like they were planted in the ground, rooted deep beneath the earth. She wanted to run, to escape, but it was as if the cemetery had claimed her, held her in place like one of its own.

Suddenly, the music stopped. Silence fell over the cemetery, broken only by the sound of Lucy's ragged breathing. She dared to glance around, praying the nightmare was over. The coffin was empty. She was alone. But then she heard it - a soft rustling behind her.

Her heart nearly stopped as she slowly turned her head, and there, mere inches from her face, was the old woman. Her face was pale, hollow, and her eyes were sunken into dark pits. Lucy screamed, her voice finally breaking free, but it was too late. The woman reached out, her hand brushing Lucy's skin, cold as death.

Lucy woke with a start, drenched in sweat, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She looked around her room, trying to steady herself, but something was wrong. Her bed - her entire bed - was covered in dirt and mud. As her friends rushed in, responding to her screams, Lucy realised that the cemetery had followed her into the real world.