Buried In The Wind Novels & Stories

The cemetery sat low in a shallow valley, rows of weather-eaten stones bending slightly toward the earth as if in silent worship. Savannah stood far enough away to remain unseen, her figure a silhouette beneath the bare branches of an elm. The wind carried the sweet, rotting scent of old flowers, and beneath it, the sharper tang of disturbed soil. Men in gloves and heavy coats worked in grim rhythm, their shovels biting into the earth with a wet crunch. Each thrust sent a dull thud into Savannah’s chest, a sound that seemed to bypass her ears entirely, lodging itself in bone. She could see their breath rising in pale clouds, the way the mound of dirt grew steadily beside the widening wound i

Grandpa Benson and Uncle Mark watched, their breaths held, as the casket disappeared from sight, swallowed by the earth that would now be her resting place. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept through the cemetery, strong and forceful, as if the very earth was mourning her departure. It came so suddenly and with such intensity that everyone instinctively shielded their eyes, hats and scarves flying off in the wind. Flowers scattered, their delicate petals caught in the air like fragments of broken memories. The wind howled for a moment, echoing the grief of those gathered, and then just as abruptly as it had come, it died down, leaving behind an eerie silence.

She whispered the truth into the dark, her voice breaking: “Then let it never end.” Outside, the marsh winds shifted, carrying whispers through the reeds — as though the land itself answered. The hollow, ancient and half-forgotten, held them in its embrace. And in that ruin of stone and moss, their bond burned on — fierce, forbidden, and unbreakable.

Lana’s POV The dawn came quietly, pale and cold, as though even the sun did not want to touch this place. Mist curled between the trees, wrapping the forest in a thin shroud of gray. We buried Maris beneath an old willow that leaned toward the river. The soil was damp and heavy. Every shovelful sounded like a heartbeat muffled by rain. Warren’s warriors stood in a semicircle around the grave. They were silent and stone-faced, their breath ghosting in the chill air.

Nothing. The wind carries only the usual sounds—waves, gulls, the heartbeat of the sea. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll find you. Wherever you are.” My knees lock. My breath catches. “…Who are you?” I whisper aloud, though I know no one can hear me. “You know me.” The voice vanishes like smoke. I stand in the middle of the path, heart hammering, hands trembling. The sea looks the same. The sky is calm. But something’s shifted. Someone is coming. And some buried part of me— wants them to.

'For touching what’s mine. I tightened my grip. No. That wasn’t mine to think about. Not mine to believe. Not mine to hope for. So I buried it. Deep. Where it belonged. And kept walking.

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.

A low moan rose, echoed through grotesquely swaying branches. The wind raced northward, howled down a canyon, rushed through the darkened forest, and climbed higher into the steep mountains to find a cabin dark and silent. Inside, away from the sheets of silvery rain and the monstrous wind, two bodies lay motionless, entwined on the bed.

Nikitas Pov The howl of the wind seemed to mirror the chaos within me as I stepped into the carriage, leaving Rykor and Iian behind. I needed to unravel the storm in my head before I could trust myself to speak with them. The voices were becoming more distinct, their sinister whispers no longer a distant melody but an impending threat. My body ached with exhaustion, the curse gnawing at every fibre of my being. The carriage jostled forward, and I desperately clung to the fragile sense of control I had left.

He fell to his knees among the flowers, hands pressing to the ground, shoulders shaking violently. "I'm sorry…" he choked out. "I'm sorry… I was wrong… It's all my fault…" The wind blew through the flower field, scattering petals onto his shoulders, only for them to be whisked away again. That was the only response he got. He remained on his knees for a long, long time. Then, the dreamscape began to crumble. The field faded, the sky fractured, and Simon jerked awake. His eyes snapped open. He gasped, chest heaving, gaze unfocused as it swept across the room. The bathroom door was still there, and the dim hallway light stretched his shadow across the floor.