Coffin Undertaker Novels & Stories

What the found was a pine wood coffin setting on the floor in the main room with the lid on. “What the fuck?” Deputy Diller asked. “Why is there a pinewood box in the house?” “He’s a preacher, he does funerals, maybe it has something to do with that,” Deputy Davis replied. “The mortician takes care of the bodies, he has all the coffins down at the mortuary. This isn’t right,” Deputy Diller said. The sheriff moved in closer and took a long look at the lid. He pulled his pistol and aimed it at the center. “Take off the lid,” he said to Deputy Diller who was standing closest to the coffin.

He telephonically prepared the whole funeral, everything was done by the time we landed. “I don’t think I have ever seen a coffin like this. It’s kick-ass!” Colton exclaims behind us. “He liked the nickname.” I chuckle at Hunter’s response. I didn’t even know that Father knew that’s what he was called out there. The coffin is very typical of his demeanour. Black, mysterious and intimidating. He would have definitely liked this. “You did not prepare a vehicle?” Besides the car that’s pulling the trailer, I don’t see our usual bulletproof vehicles Hunter usually prepares.

Those two juniors might just be crazy. Right at this moment, the man lifting the coffin then continued his speech. “Fourth Master Yates, Consultant York was the one that handpicked his coffin. He said that the coffin itself is quite ancient and that it suits your status well!” “You…” Gus and the others that could barely hold their anger before were gritting their teeth furiously at this moment. They were barely resisting the urge to take action immediately. Harvey and Sky Corporation were too arrogant! Doing and saying those things would make someone cut him in half!

‘‘Undertaker, undertaker, undertaker,’’ they chorused loudly as I walked towards my seat with my head facing down. Everyone knew who undertaker was. It wasn’t a good name either. Undertaker was the world’s undisputed wrestling champion for years. He wore dark clothes and came to stage to fight with a coffin. He would come with a coffin wearing dark clothes with red eyes and step out, as if he was coming from the dead.

"Now beg for forgiveness. Do it properly for once while the Whitaker family is watching, or else…" I scoffed. "Oh yeah? I'll do your flapping mouth one better. I'll prove it." I lunged for the coffin. [WTF, WTF, WTF, WTF! They are naked in there!] [If she opens it… oh God. Stephie's life is ruined. The man too!] I yanked the lid off.

“Likes cosplay.” I read the line aloud and burst out laughing. Next to it stood a wardrobe packed with every kind of lingerie imaginable. From bunny girls to cat girls, I ended up picking a fox-girl outfit. There wasn’t any deeper reason behind my choice. The fox tail was fluffier, and honestly, it looked warmer. A pair of ivory candles flickered softly nearby. Following the ritual, I completed the vows before climbing straight into the enormous crystal coffin. Our Lord lay silently inside. He looked in his twenties.

They watched helplessly as I asked them to cover the coffin board. They just sat aside and followed the hearse home. "Sir, please help me nail the coffin shut. I always feel like the corpse would wake up in the coffin if not nailed down. It's scary to think about it." The workers were amused by what I said. "They had been dead for a week. They won't wake up. However, it is necessary to nail the coffin shut. We will do so right now." Finally, Jessie could not hold back her expression and hurriedly stepped forward to stop them.

The coffin was slowly lowered into the earth, and those dressed in somber black bowed their heads in silent prayer. The officiant's voice was soft and mournful, resonating in the stillness of the cemetery as he spoke of Noah Leslie's brief but illustrious life. His name had once been a legend in the business world, a self-made man who built a vast empire from the ground up. Yet today, the man who had once stood invincible now lay quietly in the coffin, a mere part of the past.

"What the hell?" Huub's expression was as cold as ice. He always knew that undertakers were so eloquent that they could give fortune tellers a run for their money. However, nothing they ever said would be true, as it was all a sales pitch. And Huub could not care less about people like them, so he snorted and turned to leave. "Hey now, sir!" Seeing that Huub was going to abandon his unconscious goon, the unscrupulous geezer hurried to him and started rambling, "You could let me handle his funeral matters. I promise that it will be my finest work. The deposit would be…"

Diving deeper, she found wild speculations: accusations of her teaching ominous makeup techniques, baseless theories of dark spells, and even doctored chats where she supposedly asked fans for their birth dates. Helma sighed, debating internally if she should intervene. Refresh. A new headline post caught her eye. From Cole? Helma's eyes widened. Cole's post read: [Mortician: A solitary, yet noble calling.] Images and details highlighting the profession's gravity and purpose accompanied his words. [The intention of morticians? To bestow the departed with final grace, allowing families to remember them as they once were, especially those who met untimely, tragic ends.] Helma's lips quirked up