Buried Deep And Other Stories Novels & Stories

The smell of rotting flesh seem to seep out of the coffin. In the end, we had to have a closed burial for him. ++++++++++ Death offers us so many tnrills and chills. And in most cases, it's not even personal experiences that drive us a bit off the edge when we hear those stories. But again, I would like to remind you that some of these stories may or not be real, but it is the absolute truth for those who shared those tales. So once again, I bid you farewell from The Supernatural Spa, dear reader. This has been your Storyteller, The Diwata, saying goodnight and we hope to see you soon. Fare thee well...

The word tasted strange in my mouth. I’d heard of it before. I’d seen it in movies where people go under and suddenly start spilling their deepest secrets or reliving hidden memories. But I’d never once believed it could be real. Not really. Not for me. “Yes,” she nodded. “Sometimes, we bury things deep inside. Things we don’t want to face. Who knows, you might find answers... or something you never expected.” That part scared me a little. Something I never expected. I was quiet for a while, just standing there, letting her words settle in. Then I shifted on my feet l

New text bled into existence in the sky overhead, the letters not clean white this time but thick, dark, like someone had dipped a finger in blood and ink and drawn them by hand. CHOOSE: BURIAL OR BIRTH. ABANDON YOUR STORIES, OR CLAIM THEM. The words hung there, heavy as stone. My heart clenched. Burial. Birth. Abandon… Claim. The meanings slotted in with nasty ease. If I buried all this—if I closed the coffin, turned my back, accepted the stone’s half‑etched HERE LIES, and walked away—I’d be doing what I’d always done. Letting the game take the pieces of me I’d left on hard drives and in notebooks and used them how it wanted.

Esmé Hawthorne. Catherine Dupré. Annelise Morgan. Isadora Thorne. Five women. All Blackwell brides. My breath caught. They’d all vanished after marriage. Whispers of illness. Disappearances. Madness. But they hadn’t disappeared. They had been buried. Here. Together. Beneath our feet. I approached the nearest coffin, my hand brushing over the lid. The stone was rough and cold. A faint crescent moon glowed under the flashlight. And suddenly— Crrrk.

“Keep searching.” “We are searching, Don, but—” “I said keep searching.” Marco stepped in. “Kayson.” I turned on him. “Did you not hear me?” The rescue diver coming in from the water pulled off his mask and said bluntly, “Don, there’s nothing left to save.” That was the moment something inside me gave way. I stared at the wreckage piled under the floodlights, at the twisted metal and burned scraps dragged out of the sea, and my legs nearly went out from under me. Marco caught my arm before I hit the ground.

The voice on the other end of the line rose, cutting through the speaker so sharply it seemed to rattle the dishes on the table. "I found Julian 440 yards above Camp One, at the bottom of a cliff. His whole body is frozen solid. And he was still clutching a torn piece of note in his hand."

The city outside Kovoc’s mansion never slept. Even in silence, you could feel it, the pulse of engines, the echo of sirens, the distant hum of a world that didn’t know a war was always being fought in the shadows. Kimberly woke before dawn. The room was still dim, the curtains drawn, but she could sense him there, not asleep anymore. Kovoc Rysand sat in the chair across from the window, bare-chested, a glass of whiskey untouched beside him. The scars on his skin caught the faint morning light, each one a story no one dared ask about.

"Then you should ask who would bury such a thing in such a deep place." "What's the meaning of burying it?" Ye Shijun was stunned. "The Divine Dragon Emissary said that it might have been buried by Samuel." Zhu Yanshuo frowned. The beautiful woman sneered. "Continue." "Is this thing related to Samuel's disappearance?" When the beautiful woman heard this, she finally looked away coldly and walked to the deep pit in a few steps. "Finally, there is a person with a good brain here." "There's a book buried in a 100-meter-deep pit. Isn't this weird? Samuel mysteriously disappeared. Isn't this strange?"

“I wouldn’t let it get over my head. I would never carve emotions on stones. I would bury them deep in the earth, long submerged beneath waterfalls until it fades away.” “There was a story I heard lately and I thought it might be of use to you. Do you know the lost Princess who was shamed by her family into nothingness? They don’t want her because when she was born, all the servants present died. They said the mother never wanted such a monster to be born. The tale might be a truth or a lie. Something that might help you decide or drown you in thoughts.”

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,