Coffin Undertaker Novels & Stories

As he spoke, Hunter then knocked on the coffin board of one of the coffins as he laughed and said, “People say that the thicker the coffin board is, the better it would be. However, the thickness of this coffin board is not even as thick as the bed board used in the countryside. The old carpenter told me that although they are a poor mountainous area, no one inside the mountain would be willing to use such poor-quality coffins. They would rather go into the mountains on their own to cut trees and save enough thick wood to ask the carpenter to make a coffin for them instead of agreeing to sleep in this kind of broken coffin. It is said that this kind of broken coffins are specially prepared f

The reverend father, dressed in his somber black attire, began speaking in that same soft, reverent voice. “We pray this day that our Heavenly Father will accept her soul and lead her to heaven.” The reverend muttered as he sprinkled holy water on the coffin. His words were nothing but a dull buzz in my ears as I waited for the part where they would lower her coffin into the earth. The entire ceremony felt surreal. Was this really happening? The undertakers, clad in black, stood by the grave, ready to lower the coffin into the earth. The crowd began to murmur quietly, waiting for the final blessing. And then it happened. A dramatic, gut-wrenching cry broke through the air.

The embalmer let the Earl of Winchester enter the premises, in a glass coffin adorned with gold trimmings, was Willemina, her pale face was reflected in terror, as if she had recognized the man or being hers who I had attacked her I did everything possible, to remove that grimace of horror, I embalmed the body so that the police could find more things, but it is impossible, then the others arrived - he said pointing to the other coffins, from the expensive cedar to the cheap pine. We will take her away, thank you for putting your knowledge and power in making my daughter - the Earl of Winchester's voice broke - thank you, Sir Walker, I hope to see you at the funeral, to say goodbye to my bel

In fact, I didn't think Murnot knew how to express any emotion. Lixiss continued to lead me through the corridors. I knew where we were going. I'd attended countless Rites of Passages and other ceremonies, each of them held in the same chamber. Though admittedly, I'd never gone adorned in such finery and priceless coven artefacts. Eventually, we came to a stop outside the only door crafted from oak wood and infused with

How could you have lived such a miserable life for so long, Viola…" I floated in the air, patting him on his shoulder from afar. I never thought that after revolving my life around Aaron for more than 20 years, the person collecting and dealing with my dead body would turn out to be someone else. Dustin called the funeral home. Then, he took emergency leave from work and made the necessary arrangements. He purchased an extremely pretty urn for me before taking me away from the funeral home. After considering for a long time, he finally decided on the perfect location for my burial ground. It was a very pretty place. It happened to be during the sunflower blooming season, and I was surrounded

From deep inside her chest came a broken, hopeless sob—a cry filled with nothing but despair. Due to the severity of the situation, the police had to investigate everything that happened. When they questioned the workers who had nailed the coffin shut, the latter stumbled over their words. "It wasn't our fault! We didn't know there was someone alive inside! I mean, who would put a child in a coffin and lock them inside? "When we sealed it, we did hear noises coming from inside, but we thought it was something supernatural. You know how it is in our line of work. There are certain taboos we ought to respect!"

"I’m here for Susan Carpenter...my Aunt. I’ve come to take her body for burial." The mortician studied her briefly, asked a few routine questions, and then reached for a clipboard. Jennifer had prepared everything...the fake name, the story, the small envelope of cash she handed over without hesitation. Papers were signed, receipts exchanged. The mortician gave the usual instructions and nodded to the men who handled the coffins. Outside, two attendants carried Susan’s coffin toward a van Jennifer had booked. She watched them approach, her heart steady but her palms damp. As the coffin passed, she exhaled slowly.

When I told him about the funeral, he told me he couldn’t, that he should receive new benefactors today, and that he should not waste time with Sandra. Piece of shit. The priest finished talking and closed the book, which was probably the bible, I didn’t know exactly, I had never been to a mass before. Two men approached and began to lower the coffin into the hole slowly and carefully. I stood still, watching the coffin descend before my eyes until it was completely underground. I approached and took a bit of dirt in my fist, then dropped it on the coffin and walked away. I watched the men take the shovels and begin to cover the coffin with earth, I remained silent and waited while those few

Arthemisya is always in the spotlight. Something caught my attention. A man in a black suit, passing by with a name tag I assumed was a security guard, was busy guiding five men. They were all dressed entirely in black, with black masks and hats. Only their latex gloves were glaring white as they lifted a coffin to be loaded onto a white truck. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. There was no mistaking it; the coffin contained the body of someone Tiger had killed the night before. "What's wrong with that person?" I noticed one of them holding his stomach. I complained to security and was finally allowed to enter the lobby.

“His clothes were not put on correctly. He looked like a clown. His rings went missing. They dropped the coffin before burying him. His poor momma had a heart attack when her dead son came flopping out. Oh, when I got to the graveside to the service, they were digging the hole and hadn’t put the grave liner in yet.” “Stories like that are why I bought the home. It’s going to take to build the reputation back up. Carter is doing the marketing for it and JT’s club to get them both out of the red. I had the home remolded. It now has its own crematorium. I’ve hired all new staff and I’m the mortician until I can hire someone to replace me,” I explain. “Romeo mentioned something about a crime sce