Buried In The Wind Novels & Stories

Whatever Alessia had engineered with that genetic panel, whatever secret she'd spent decades protecting inside her family's careful, curated history, we were about to find out exactly how far she was willing to go to keep it buried. I thought about my own sister then, unbidden, the way I still sometimes did during quiet moments when my mind wandered somewhere I hadn't consciously steered it. Aurora had been gone a long time now, but grief had a way of resurfacing in strange places, and something about tonight, about buried family secrets finally forcing their way into the light, made me think of her more sharply than I had in months. She'd deserved better than the ending she got. So did Cora

I push it down - bury it deep. The wind howls through the trees like ghosts. The rolling thunder creeping closer and closer as the day begins to turn to night. I lie alone, bleeding. Some distant, long-forgotten part of me urges me to stay where I am. I think of Sarah - the fear in her eyes just before I slit her throat, the anguish. The betrayal. What would she think of me now? Here in this moment. That same part of me misses her. Longs to see her face just one more time. Hear her voice again as she berates me for the poor choices I've made.

I had actually died. I watched myself being buried. I watched as they lowered my body into the ground, watched the dirt being thrown over me while I stood there helplessly, unable to stop any of it. Every morning, I woke up drenched in cold sweat, my heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest. I was beginning to fear sleep. For several days, I thought Kiara had finally given up. I knew it was her doing. She was too predictable, and there was no way something like that could keep happening without someone behind it.

The wind was rushing past me so fast that I could barely breathe, and I felt like I was being torn apart by the sheer force of it all. Then, with a jarring thud, I hit the ground. It was soft and cushiony, but still jarring and painful. I felt the sand envelop me, burying me up to my waist, and I struggled to get free. I could feel the sand slipping through my fingers, and I realised that I was sinking deeper into the soft, shifting ground. My heart was silently heaving in my chest as I struggled to pull myself free, but the sand seemed to be holding me fast. I was trapped, buried alive in this vast expanse of shifting, treacherous sand. The landscape had betrayed me, and now I was paying th

Never once had she imagined burying her instead. Olivia hugged Lily’s favorite teddy bear tightly against her chest while the child’s drawing book rested quietly beside the grave. With shaking hands and swollen red eyes, she picked up the book and slowly flipped through the pages one after another. At first the drawings looked normal, childish scribbles mixed with colorful sketches. Then Olivia noticed the hidden sentences Lily had written carefully across different pages. She slowly pieced the words together. "Maybe if Lily wasn’t with mummy, daddy would love her like he used to before I was born"

~ We buried him under the ash tree behind the ruins, the one with bark like stone and roots that cracked through the bones of old gods. Tyler dug the grave with his hands, blistered knuckles splitting open again and again. Lyric stood watch with a sword in each hand and her daughter pressed against her side, hair tangled, face streaked with dirt and dried blood. Cowrie didn’t ask what happened, she just held onto Lyric like she'd done it before, like this wasn’t the first grave they’d stood over together.

Vincent’s ears twitched as he strained for any hint of a whisper or a scream—anything at all. "Camela!" His roar erupted from deep within him, echoing strangely without any actual sound. His lips moved, his throat burned with effort, but the grave swallowed every trace of sound. He pressed his claws against his ears in frustration and snarled, “What kind of trick is this?” The tombstone glowed brighter, and the name Vincent Fox throbbed like a heartbeat. Slowly, faint letters began to carve themselves beneath it: “Buried but not broken. Dead but not gone.”

His hair hung over his forehead, heavy with water. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe well. He just knelt. The storm didn’t lighten. It didn’t grow harsher. It simply stayed where it was—an echo of something larger, something he didn’t understand. He dug his fingers into the earth. “I buried you in my mind,” he said quietly. “Because I had to. Because if I didn’t—” His voice broke again. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to breathe. I wouldn’t be able to lead a single day.”

* Cerberus * The wind shifted that night, curling through the trees like a whisper of fate, laced with something ancient and ominous. It tugged at the branches like invisible fingers, stirring the leaves into a restless dance. I stood for a moment in front of my club tavern, locking the last deadbolt, when I felt it, that strange pull in the marrow of my bones, the whisper of something long buried clawing its way to the surface.

Out of frustration, she twisted his ear hard as they walked down the street. Liam screamed in pain. He started crying and throwing a fit. His incessant cries and shrieks caused Sophia to lose control and give him a good beating. Inside the villa, James collapsed onto the couch, feeling utterly dejected. He thought mournfully, "Naomi… Celeste… Where are you?"