After preparing a dumb supper together in total silence, Rebecca and Eliza set the table with plates, glasses, and flatware, and then sat down.

They sat in near darkness, except for the glow of the candlelight radiating from the table.

As the clock neared midnight, without a word, they began to eat their meal backwards.

Desert first, dinner, then appetizers last.

At the head of the table, an extra place was set for an unseen guest.

Their hearts pounded with quiet, hopeful, dread as they ate their meals.

Rebecca and Eliza heard stories throughout their childhoods from local folklore

that if they did this ritual correctly, the spirits would reveal their future husbands.

At that moment, a wind gust rattled the door, and the candle's flames suddenly went out.

Eliza suppressed a gasp in the darkness.

The stroke of midnight then boomed from a distant church bell.

In that instant, the door blew open, and a stranger stepped inside, his face pale and eyes hollow.

Behind him, he dragged a long, dark coffin.

The young women froze in terror.

Silently, the stranger glided over to the empty chair and sat down.

He did not eat or speak, but simply sat, heightening their anxieties.

As lightning flashed outside the windows, Eliza noticed a gleaming knife fall from the stranger's coat to the floor.

Trembling, she scooped it up and slipped it into her apron pocket.

The man's gaze fixed on her, but still he said nothing.

Finally, he stood up, gestured to the coffin, and left as eerily as he arrived,

the coffin gliding behind him, scraping over the threshold and into the storm.

After the door slammed shut, both young women exhaled, only then realizing they'd been holding their breath.

...