Buried In The Wind Novels & Stories

She had learned its rhythms, mapped its exits, pressed folders behind maintenance files and moved photographs from corkboards and counted forty-second camera loops in her head. She had been buried. She was standing. The kettle clicked off. She poured the cups. Outside the window the gardener disappeared around the far corner of the hedge and the grounds were empty and still and the gate stood open at the bottom of the drive in the pale October light. Just open. Just hers.

“Another damn note. What does it mean this time?” “It’s another warning,” Elliot muttered. He turned the paper over, finding something scrawled on the back in faint ink: “The truth is hidden where the light dies.” “The light dies?” Jonah asked, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Elliot pocketed the note, already thinking. “It’s pointing us to something. A place. Somewhere dark, maybe underground.” Jonah scoffed. “Like the crypt? We’ve already been there, and all we found was a dead butler and more questions.”

I nodded while fidgeting with my fingers. Alexander walked out of the car and the driver drove out of sight. Soon, the car stopped in the mansion and I walked into the house absentmindedly. Drey Lauren. Why won't I forget that name? Anna Lauren. Who is she? I sighed deeply wanting to head upstairs when my face turned to the television. The burial of Anna Lauren was being displayed. People in black stood there with umbrellas above their heads and that's when I realized it had started raining. A thunder rumble came from the sky and a sharp pain hit my head, making me fall to the ground.

All of a sudden, he burst out laughing. "Retribution! It's retribution!" he screamed manically. As the fire crept closer and slowly engulfed everything in its path, Jerome suddenly reached out in my direction. I was shocked. Did he see me? "Monica, did you come to take me with you?" I turned and walked away without a word. Take him with me? There was no way I would. Jerome and Caroline took a life together. Their destination was clear—hell.

'I need to bury him first! But when I looked down, MOLART'S body was vanishing, and thousands of flowers grew where he lay. I stood on my feet, trying to steady myself. The woods were in chaos. The trees bowed, the leaves waved, and the ground shook. I took a shaking step away from his body, but the wind was so strong and tugged at me, pulling me away. 'You must hold your ground, Laika. This wind might haul you to a different place, and we might not be able to make it back before sunset.'

The wind blew hard in her direction, causing the hairs on her skin to rise, but above all, what was rising within her was the pain and loneliness of seeing her mother’s ashes on the ground and knowing that it was just her against the world now. When she got to the spot, she saw sticks and little fires that still burned from them and she could perceive the smoke in the air. But apart from all that, she could see the ashes, the one she believes must be her mother’s. Kyra knelt down among the ashes which the wind had scattered around and she tried to gather some of it in her hands while also taking up sand. Seeing that it was all useless, she placed her palms flat on the ground and she buried h

she shouted over the roar of the wind. The wind carried them upward, the trees blurring as they rose. It wasn't a violent force—it felt more like being swept up in a gentle but unstoppable current. Alaric shielded Tonya with his body, ensuring she was safe as they ascended through the forest canopy. The swirling wind carried them higher, above the treetops, where the night sky opened up, and the stars sparkled overhead.

I buried myself as deep as I could go and came with a rough, broken groan, pulsing thick, hot ropes of cum deep inside her until it overflowed and ran down her thighs in messy, sticky trails. We collapsed together in a sweaty, trembling heap, my chest pressed tight to her back and my arms locked around her waist as I stayed buried to the hilt inside her still-twitching pussy. Our breathing gradually slowed, ragged and heavy in the suffocating darkness, but the cabin continued to groan and creak ominously under the storm’s relentless assault, the wind screaming louder than ever against the walls.

Todd had held that album, tears streaming down his face. I teased him for being sentimental, but he took my hand, sniffling. "Harper, I love you so much. We're going to be together forever. Promise me you'll never leave me, okay?" I had believed every word, never knowing love could erode under the weight of time. The album was never opened again. It ended up crammed inside the box with our graduation gowns, tossed carelessly into the dumpster. "Because..." I whispered, "I am allergic to peaches."

Uncle’s POV The past never stays buried. I’ve always known that. Ashes may smother for a time, concealing what they devoured, but one wind shift is enough to stir them alive again. That is what haunts me now—after all these years, after everything I secured with fire and silence, the wind has shifted.