Novel & Cerita Buried To The Hilt

“About fifteen miles out of town, up in the mountains.” “In a cabin?” “No.” Ace looked down. “She’s – she’s buried.” Losing his cool for the first time, Aidan shot to his feet, his chair hitting the floor. “Buried alive?” “Yeah.” “How long ago?” King asked, seeing that Aidan was paralyzed with horror. “About… ten hours.” “How long can someone survive being buried like that?” Honey said, her voice hushed. “How many hours?” “Depends,” King said. “I’ve seen people survive up to a day.”

In that moment, I wished I could just die and be done with it. I could feel life slipping away from me, my consciousness beginning to blur. I wanted to fight back, but my body was so weak that I didn't even have the strength to move a single muscle. What little awareness I had left told me that Fabian had dragged me to an abandoned factory building. I could sense that my entire body had long been reduced to a bloody pulp. Still, the numbness couldn't mask the excruciating pain. Fabian threw me into a machine, and then a large amount of soil was poured in after me.

I’d rise. And when I did… They would wish they had buried me deeper.

I said, “Tell me where Mirabel is. Did you kill her?” She smirked. “You’ll never fucking know. That’s your punishment. Then she walked out of the gate, hips swinging like she owned the world. I stood alone, heart pounding. I turned back to the men. “You,” I pointed at one. “Dig a grave.” “How deep?” he asked. “Ten feet,” I said. “I want him buried deep so he can never fucking crawl back.” They obeyed. The afternoon sun was high when they dropped Giordano’s body into the ground.

I hugged my legs as I buried my face down. What have I done?

She wiped it away mechanically, her words growing faint. "The doctors say it's karma - stage four lung cancer. Three months left." She placed the pendant carefully in my mailbox, then clasped her hands in a wordless plea, looking up at me with desperate hope. "Can I ask you one thing... just one? After I die... could you bury me near you? That's all I want." The scars she'd carved into my soul refused to heal. I couldn't offer the comfort she sought. Understanding flashed in her reddened eyes, now swimming with tears of remorse. She said nothing more.

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.

" So I should leave it for you to bury?I'll do whatever I want with the body, I do not give a bloody hell about consecrating the body . I yelled . I dragged the body to the back of the house, dug up a grave with the shovel I found inside Natasha house, i had a really difficult time digging the grave as I wasn't used to this kind of things, it was however a matter of urgency, it is actually better I bury it without consecrating instead of leaving the body for Natasha to commit different kind of atrocities with it . Before dusk I was done with burying my body, my body was so filled with dirt, I looked really tartared, I just wanted to go home and freshen up .

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.”

Large chunks of the ceilings and walls had fragmented and caved in, which allowed piles of dirt from the hill above to come pouring in as well. The unfortunate few ended up crushed to death under those mounds of rubble, though the impact had killed most of them instantly, thankfully enough. Those who were truly unlucky died slow, agonizing deaths as the dirt and debris asphyxiated and compressed their fragile human bodies. Getting buried alive has always been one of the worst ways to die. Everytime one breathed, the soil would shift to fill the space left behind. Eventually, their lungs wouldn’t be able to move, and they would have suffocated to death.