Coffin Undertaker Novels & Stories

I went to check on her last night and I told her about the arrangements that I had made so far but I wanted her to be the one to choose the coffin. I sat there and watched her ass she went through the pages in search of a perfect coffin for our daughter and finally she chose one. It was a small steel coffin painted in dusty pink with gold handles. The head part of the coffin was made out of glass, then she chose the clothes she wanted our baby to wear. I made sure that everything was done quickly. I fear that this whole ordeal might just make things worse between us.

A middle-aged man with two beautiful girls beside him stepped towards the coffin and gazed at it for a moment before throwing the flowers in their hands into the coffin. The middle-aged man, who was naturally Mr. Adolpho, motioned for his two daughters to follow him out of the cemetery. "Our business is done here." He said this to his two daughters and walked out of the cemetery. The two girls glanced at the coffin that had been rolled into the six-foot hole and went after their father. At a distance from the burial ground, stood a young girl dressed in a long-back hoodie, under the rain. Her eyes flickered as she gazed at the coffin gradually dropping into the six-foot hole.

“Cole, you have a keen insight, and you grew up in Yorks Stronghold. What kind of strange things that have happened in Yorks Stronghold have you heard of?” Cole carefully recalled, then said with some confusion, “I don’t know if that matter has anything to do with today’s events, though.” “Let’s hear it.” “When I was a child, I once stumbled into a mysterious cemetery. There was an ice coffin in the cemetery. Inside was a man dressed in traditional attire…”

“Five grand for a wake. Two grand extra if you want mourners wailing. Live funeral band? That’ll be twenty-eight hundred. Standard cremation runs four ninety-nine, but if you want an eco-friendly coffin, that’s an extra five hundred. Want the ashes processed further? That’ll run you twelve hundred.” She tilted her head, expression cool. “So, who in your family just kicked the bucket? If it's more than one, we offer bulk discounts.” The blond’s face twisted in rage. “You little bitch! You think you’re funny?” The tattooed guy sneered, unbuckling his belt. “Quit acting all innocent. We both know you’re not. Drop the act. I’m taking you, right here and now.” He jerked his chin toward his buddy.

“Something I believe you’ll find... very interesting.” He gestured to the second wagon, still concealed beneath a heavy black tarp. From where he stood, Triston narrowed his eyes, his stance rigid, every muscle tense. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of iron and something foul—something old. The tarp was yanked back and in there, nestled in the center of the wagon, was a black coffin—ancient, worn, and bound in silver latches. Its surface shimmered faintly under the morning light, revealing an inscription carved in fading gold. Triston's brows furrowed. He didn’t recognize it at first. The distance blurred the words, and his heart beat harder with unease. Until Reyes leaned closer to the

"I hear that today is the 50th birthday of Benedict Hoover, leader of Cloudcove branch of the Shadow Sanctum. It is indeed a cause for celebration. Pardon me for showing up uninvited. "I, the successor of the Shadow Sanctum, have brought you a gift—a mahogany casket. I wish you a befitting death. May you go to hell and suffer for all eternity!" The masked man hurled the coffin right into the center of the hall. The floor shook as the coffin fell with a deafening thud. Everyone's hearts lurched in absolute terror. What the heck was going on? Who was this man who gave Benedict a casket as his birthday present and wished for Benedict to suffer for all eternity?

We would reconnect again, I was sure of it, but we had… other things on our minds right then. “Ah. I’m so sorry for your loss, Mr. and Mrs. Ford,” the funeral director continued. “Please, follow me. The coffin you ordered is ready.” We followed the funeral director into a separate room, and I felt Olivia’s breath catch. In front of us, a tiny, ornate coffin sat on top of a table. Far too tiny. Olivia was the first to walk up to it. She reached out with a trembling, pale hand and gently ran her fingers along the wood. There was a long, silent moment as she stared down at the coffin, and as I stared at her.

Then pointed to the line at the bottom. Premium preservation coffin, handcrafted blackwood interior, three million. “Fine.” Carol reluctantly transferred the money. I handed her a specially made coffin. The bottom contained a hidden hollow compartment. Once they got home, Blake would be able to slip through the false panel and escape without anyone noticing. Soon, Blake was placed inside the coffin, and everything was finally ready. But just as they were about to carry it away, Richard suddenly became suspicious of the coffin. He knocked on it several times, inside and out, making my heart climb straight into my throat.

"And what are you chuckling about, denial girl." That quickly shut me up. "So what now? Should we call the cops! Oh manh, I am gonna get fired!" Mike complained. I cleared my throat. "Well, we were just going to turn the coffin around." "For what?" Mike's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is the body there? Well, I am not getting fired?" His tone turned hopeful. Colton shrugged. "Just turn it around and find out." I gulped, Mike's words ringing in my ears. 'Is the body there?' Is the body underneath the coffin? Or is there another coffin underneath this one where my dad is? None of it made sense. Coffin under the coffin, why?

“Ok, we have all his information from the hospital, is there anything that you would like to add.” “On his tombstone I would like it to say, ‘In Loving Memory, he was a great man, cousin and soon to be father.” “Oh my, that is sad. Sorry. Here are some of the tombstones that we have, I think this one would go best with the coffin that you have chosen, I know that no one is going to see them both together unless they have been to the funeral, but what do you think?” The three us look at the one in question. “We will take it.” “Ok.” She then writes the product code for that. “Now for the lining in the coffin. Do you want to go with black, grey or both?” “Black.” “For the services.” “We already