Buried Hearts Ep 1 Novels & Stories

I didn't do anything. Watching her expression, I understood immediately. Chase must have blocked Scarlett from seeing the video he posted last night. He was deliberately showing off to me. "Whether you did or didn't doesn't matter anymore." I turned and went back to my room, slamming the door hard and leaving Scarlett standing alone in the living room. … It was a clear night after the rain when Scarlett and I first met. On my way home from work, I passed by a dark alley behind a bar and heard a woman's faint cries for help.

It isn’t until I’m pushing the door open that I realize exactly what David was threatening. My heart stops in my chest, my blood turning to ice in my veins as my eyes land on Bubbles’ lifeless form, lying in a pool of his own blood, a single bullet wound marring his once beautiful face. I can’t think. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. This isn’t real… “Bubbles..?” My voice is a broken whisper, barely audible over the roaring in my ears. I’m frozen, rooted to the spot, my mind refusing to accept the grim truth before me.

She certainly never expected to meet Death before I did. In this world, some debts always get paid. After my mother's death, Massimo said nothing. It was as if the greedy woman had never existed. But I knew the truth had been completely unearthed. The secrets buried for seven years were now out in the open. Strangely, my body suddenly felt a little better. I believe in medical terms, it's called terminal lucidity. I regained the ability to speak and could even sit up for a little while. But I knew this was just Death's final gift to me.

"Then let's build that. Together." I kissed her knuckles. "No more ghosts." "No more lies," she added. And for the first time in weeks, maybe months, I felt something unfamiliar bloom in my chest. Hope. Just as she started to lean into me again, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She frowned, reached for it, read the message, and froze. I sat up slightly. "What is it?" She handed me the phone. Unknown Number: You can't bury ghosts, Penny. They always dig their way out.

When he turned her body, his eyes widened in shock, “Where is her heart?” He asked confusedly. “Over here!” Evandor grabbed her heart from the desk and threw it towards Theodore who caught it easily. “Be gentle with someone dead! Will you?” Percy took the heart from Theodore’s arm and kept it inside her chest before holding Ira bridal style and taking her out to bury her. “You guys should go first, Edwardo and I will come later after burying her” Percy informed and left with Edwardo. “You should have thought about it before doing such act” Rose shook her head in disappointment.

Horrifyingly. “He wasn’t just a victim.” --- He was— --- “A host…” --- The word feels wrong. But right. --- Her heart pounds. --- “Something came out of him that night…” --- And it didn’t die. --- It waited. --- Years. --- Silent. Buried. --- Until— --- “Until now…” --- Her chest tightens. --- Because if what she saw back then is the same thing she feels now— --- Then that means— --- “It found someone else…”

"He must've been so desperate to live off a woman that he has lost his mind. To think he's pretending to be a dead man, whose body must've turned to dust by now!" "I know, right? I can't believe he's trying to pass himself off as the husband of the richest woman in the city! He should take a good look at himself in the mirror first." Suppressing my rage, I ignored the chatter around me and walked toward my parents' urns, which had been used to prop up some flowerpots. I wanted to dig them out of the soil and rebury them properly, but Melissa beat me to it. She kicked the urns with her sharp heels, and they shattered instantly. My parents' ashes spilled across the ground, mixing in with the d

Elias, still by the door, quietly set the empty violin case at his side and resumed his watch over the chapel entrance, eyes on the snow. Aurora looked at the decoded page, then at her sister. "So where do we start?" Elara turned to the final line, the one Vivienne hadn't read yet, the one that had only just finished resolving itself in careful, deliberate ink. She read it once to herself before she could bring herself to say it aloud. "St. Bartholomew Cemetery. London." Below it, a single sentence, written in Jonathan's unmistakable hand. "The first key has been buried beneath the only grave that has never held a body."

Emily approached, and the blade in her hand began to glow. Not bright. But steady. The slab was no mere artifact—it was a binding. A place where one of the First was tethered, long before even Varethkaal whispered from the trees. And buried beneath the slab, she could feel it: the Buried Heart. The source of the seed. Not the piece that had infected Drift. But its origin. The fragment left behind when the others were bound, cut from the one who bore the spiral. Her hands trembled. “Clara will need this,” she said aloud, “whether she knows it or not.”

The atmosphere was lively, but it felt forced, like everyone was trying a little too hard. The moment I stepped in, every single pair of eyes turned toward me. Their expressions shifted, subtle and strange. I walked a few steps forward, and that was when I saw it. In a dark corner of the yard, there was a body lying still under a white sheet. My blood ran cold. At that moment, Linda strutted over in her high heels, putting on her fake, sugary act. "Jeannie, I only meant to teach your mom a small lesson. Who knew her health was so bad? Her heart just gave out on the spot."