Corpse Husband Rings Novels & Stories

My corpse was set aside as the sky burial practitioner—my husband, Gideon Slater—removed the ring on my finger. He squinted at it and scrutinized it before casting it aside. Another sky burial practitioner asked, "Why does she have a ring, Gideon?" He wiped his blade indifferently. "I don't know. Maybe her family forgot to remove it." Soon, he would disassemble my body and mix the parts with flour so the vultures could have me. I watched with mixed feelings as I realized he didn't recognize my corpse. He didn't even recognize that the ring he'd cast aside was our wedding band!

"Let's go in together, as a couple." "I can't buy another ring for me." "You don't have to. Just keep me company," She held his wedding ring. "What will you do with this?" "Let's make a copy of this for us--Your rightful wife" "You don't have to do it." "But I want to." "Does a ring even matter? You women are so materialistic." "Shut up and come with me!" She pulled him out of the car. They walked towards the jewellery. Mr Kurosava was returning home from work when he saw Kirito and erlang entering the jewellery shop.

“It’s alright. That’s why I stare. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You just… remind me of him so much.” He exhaled, leaning back in his chair, and for a moment his guard seemed to lower. “That explains it.” My hand drifted to the ring on my finger almost without thinking but still quite intentionally. I touched it gently, my thumb brushing over the familiar band and the dainty diamond. “He’s the one who gave me this.” Orrin’s eyes followed the movement, landing on the ring. His expression shifted, confusion flashing across his features. “Was he…” he paused, almost hesitant, “…your husband?”

COUPLE RINGS Today, was the day. June would feel it. He had been spending the last two days in the hospital with no improvement and according to his system's countdown, ten months was over. The body was going to die. However, June struggled against the growing heaviness. This morning, Ian had promised to come to him with the couple rings he had ordered for their marriage. [Host, the body's countdown has started. If you don't leave the body in five minutes you will be forcefully ejected from it.]

Heart hammering, I yanked myself off from my position at the back of the door and took a quick stride to the cabinet where I keep my jewelry to appear busy. “Elle? You done?” Came a knock and his familiar smooth voice. “Yeah. Come on in.” I heard the door creaked open. Still, I didn’t turn. “Wait a moment,” I murmured, securing the simple silver necklace on my neck. I took a long steadying breath before turning around to face my husband. My breath trapped in my lungs the moment my eyes laid on him. My Killiad. My husband.

The ring in his hand pulsed once before it cracked—splitting down the middle. Camela gasped at the sight. The ghost hissed with rage, "You dare?" The broken ring lifted from his palm and spun in the air, shards of black light wrapping around Camela. Her scar burned intensely; her body arched painfully struggling to breathe. Vincent roared, thrashing against his chains. "Let her go!" The ghost's voice echoed through the ruins. "The ring returns, bride! Whether you like it or not!" The shards slammed together, reforming into the ring again and it sped toward her hand.

He went to the underground hideout where his corpse lay. He removed the alphabetical ring off his dead body. The ring was black and silver and featured the alphabet "JK". He planned to wear her ring right opposite the moon because he had this ring when he died, so when she wore this ring, her soul would be completely his. Her soul would be interconnected with his soul. The wedding would be over with all those visuals. He held the ring in his hand and a nasty grin appeared on his face. All of a sudden, he sensed the energy of familiar humans.

The thought of him in that kind of pain made something twist in my chest. Outside the bedroom door, there was the faintest click. The sound of high-clearance authorization being accepted. My breath caught. I turned toward the door as it slowly swung open. A tall man stood there, golden hair, green eyes, staring straight at me. "So you're my mate."

I noticed something amiss. So, I played along with my husband's story and casually asked, "Really? You were smiling awfully tender just now." Zachary Cole's gaze skittered away, refusing to meet mine. "The kid's got a sweet mouth. He kept calling me 'mister.' It's late. Get some sleep." He turned and walked into the bathroom before I could get a word in edgewise. After 10 years of marriage, I could read him like an open book. That moment of hesitation told me everything I needed to know. He was hiding something.

"I, Lilianna Sofia Bruno, take you, Marco Costello, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part." Mechanically, I repeated the officiant's words, each syllable feeling like a weight pressing down on me, suffocating and oppressive. I snapped back to reality when he grasped my hands and forced a ring onto my finger. Blinking, I noticed the inscription—Amy Costello—and the dried blood staining the band. A chill ran down my spine as I realized this was her ring, his dead wife's ring. Someone handed me a band, but he snatched it from my grasp and slid it onto hi