And the plot thickens!

     They walked in silence for a few minutes, waving their red flashlight beam across the grass and over headstones. They came to a stone crypt that stood white and tall, seemingly containing a quiet reverence that the night air around them lacked. It was one of a few crypts that were littered throughout the cemetery. Not many could afford such an expensive place in which to house their dead bodies.
     “Hey, what time is it?” asked Samantha. Anthony pulled back the sleeve of his sweatshirt and said,
     “We’ve got about forty-five minutes until we need to meet up with everyone else.”
     “Oh, I guess that’s good. The time’s really going by slowly, isn’t it?” She leaned her back against the stone crypt, pointing her flashlight beam into the darkness surrounding them, deciding where to go next.
     “Yeah, it----it ichhhhh----“ Anthony faltered. He could feel the darkness, the same as before – not in him yet, but surrounding him, spreading over his pores, hovering. Then, he felt heat on the skin directly underneath the cross that rested on his chest. The darkness receded instantly, and Anthony froze. Physically, he felt like he could throw up if he tried, and then everything would feel better. But something else wasn’t right. He looked at Sam. “Sam, did you feel----Sam!”
     Samantha was rigid against the wall of the crypt. Her palms were flat, fingers splayed out. Her mouth was forming a perfect “O,” and her head was tilted back, resting against the stone surface. Her breathing was heavy, and it intensified until it became ragged.
     “Sam!” yelled Anthony, desperately. “Sam! I’m right here, wake up! Sam!”
     Sam couldn’t hear Anthony’s voice. The voice she heard was feminine, whispering despair into ears. Samantha could feel darkness poring into her – guilt, horror, shame, filling her relentlessly.
     “No,” she moaned, lifting up her hands in supplication. “Please, no,” she whispered.
     “Samantha! Damn it! Sam!” Anthony was yelling right next to her, but she couldn’t hear him.
     She lifted her hands higher, bringing them into her face, at first to press her palms against her cheeks. Then her fingers clenched and her nails dug into her skin. And frantically, desperately, Samantha began to claw at her face. Sound was trying to escape her throat, but only small desperate noises escaped. It sounded like there was something lodged in her throat.
     Anthony was standing so close that he was practically on top her, yelling her name. Realizing that she was unable to hear him, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the cold wall. Sam gave a small cry, but still did not wake out of her invisible battle. Her hair hung disheveled, and her face was frozen in a grimace of disgust. Anthony didn’t know what else he could do, so he released one of Sam’s wrists, raised his hand, and slapped her hard across the face. She shook her head, and her other wrist went limp in his grasp. Her eyes met his, widened, and then she started crying.
     With Sam now awake, Anthony realized that there was a white flashlight beam illuminating both of them.
     “That’s enough! You step aware from her and put your hands in the air! Now!” yelled an unfamiliar masculine voice. Anthony squinted into the bright light and realized there was a pistol being leveled at him.