Buried Deep And Other Stories Novels & Stories

I pressed a hand against my chest and whispered a promise to myself, to them. “No matter what happens, I will protect you. I will make memories with you and I will fight until my last breath before anyone takes you from me.” But even as the words left my lips, the unease gnawed deeper. Because in the distance, beyond the girls’ laughter, beyond the safe walls of our home, I could feel the truth stirring. Secrets never stayed buried forever. And Amara Holt, for some reasons I could not yet name, seemed determined to unearth mine.

But for the first time since I'd arrived at this estate, I no longer doubted that something worth moving toward actually existed. I thought, before finally allowing sleep to claim me, of the particular cruelty embedded in the timeline I'd just assembled — a family searching desperately for a stolen daughter across three territories, while that same daughter grew up less than a week's ride away, raised as someone else's beloved child, only to be discarded the moment a different daughter returned to reclaim her place. Two families, each convinced they'd lost what mattered most, each unaware that the answer to one grief had been quietly living inside the wound of another the entire time.

It was about something my father stole. Something buried deep. And I was going to dig it up. Even if it killed me.

Every single directions around the team, skeletons started to appeared from the ground pulling themselves off the dirt. “Remembers Children….no matter where, as long s they were a city close by..it was always going to be man dead scattered around it…dead bodies buried…sometimes from war…sometimes from murder…ins short..sometimes although on the surface…there seems to be nothing…under the earth..there were a lot of secret buried..and in instance…Hallerusia..is certainly…not as Prosperous as you might think…”. (Alfred)

Elena sat on her favourite chair at Amigo Garden right beside the waterfall. She picked the tiny pebbles around her throwing them into the waterfall, watching them drown. It had always been something that managed to take her mind off things temporarily. It was like watching her troubles drown with the stone. Her backpack was still hugging her tightly as she was still in her uniform. The day’s events kept on replaying in her mind. “Elena," Luke called out walking over. He was still in the outfit from earlier- dark blue jeans and a grey t-shirt except that he now had a black hoodie on too.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. Soft. Poisonous. "Estelle, you're pathetic." The call disconnected. I lay on the floor without moving. Like a corpse. After a while, the kidnapper sighed and walked over, knife in hand. I shifted slightly, exposing my blood-soaked forehead. Then I begged him like a stray dog. "Give me one more chance. "One last call."

Some stories started with hate. This one ended with everything.

Even my deceased family members couldn't be left in peace! I clenched my jaw so hard that my mouth filled with the taste of blood, yet it still couldn't suppress the fury raging inside me. Pulling out my phone, I was just about to call 911 when Melissa snatched my phone and threw it to the ground. She stomped on it with her heel, shattering it immediately. "Calling the police, huh? I'll give you a little hint—it's pointless. Ms. Fuller rules over Joverton City." She pointed to a deep pit nearby, which had been dug out to build an artificial lake for the horse ranch. It was filled with rubble, shards of glass, and rusty steel bars.

The world didn't end in a bang, but in the sound of grinding stone and the sudden, suffocating weight of wet earth. Elias Thorne clawed his way out of the rubble of the warehouse sub-basement, his lungs burning with dust and the residual sting of Vane’s harmonic frequency. His suit was a scorched rag, his skin a patchwork of healing burns, but his arms remained locked around Cat. She was limp, a terrifying weight of porcelain skin and silenced magic, held under the heavy narcotic of his Blood Sleep.

A deep, aching pull I don’t understand. Am I broken? Or have I buried the truth under so many expectations, I can’t even feel it? I curl beneath the covers, eyes still open. The celebration is over. The mask is off. But the questions remain.