Don't Bury Him Yet Novels & Stories

“This stays dead and buried. Understood?” I glance back. He’s gripping the edge of his desk so hard the wood creaks. “Understood,” I say. But we both know it’s not. Some things you can’t bury when they’re still breathing.

He needs to understand who he’s been circling all this time. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll see what I see now. That this isn’t about her coming back. It’s about her coming to bury us all.

he added. Could this be a coincidence? Lanesville—the same small town where everyone attended my mother’s funeral. The same town now searching for her, as if she might still be alive. Then who did we bury? I remembered seeing her casket slowly lowered into the ground. I remember the flowers. The pain. “Don’t tell anyone what you know....not yet,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to cause a stir.” He hung up. I gripped my phone tightly and walked over to the fireplace.

“We just need him to stay away.” "Are you inviting her ex-husband? I don't get you," Leah asked. "No. Immediately after the burial, I’ll send him the video footage so they stop bothering me," Mr. Scholes replied coldly. "Nice plan," Leah smiled. "There’s no need to worry about it. A simple burial at the cemetery will end all of this. Whose dead body are you going to use?"

He inhaled slowly, deeply — bracing himself. “I never buried her,” he said. I frowned. “What do you mean? What happened to the body?” Hector’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened in a way I had never seen before — a mix of fear, shame, and something dangerously close to hope. “I never buried her,” he repeated, voice low. “Because she’s not dead.” I stared at him, blood turning into ice water. “What?” My voice broke. “Hector, what are you saying?”

I coughed, "You wouldn't- happen to have a shovel with you, do you?" "I do- it's around here, somewhere..." "Alright, Maurice, mark the spot so you don't forget, I need you to dig me out," "Trust me, lady, Your grave is unique, it's not hard to miss," What did he mean? "Can you please elaborate on that," "Whoever buried you out here was in a rush, there is no headstone." I hear his heartbeat become faint, Why would need a headstone? I am not dead, someone is just playing a sick game with me.

Upon hearing that, Liam had to try his hardest not to smirk at how pathetic Zivon looked right now… and after a while, he managed to retain his ‘worried’ façade as he replied, “Look, I just don’t want the body to stiffen… Any longer and he’ll only make her corpse’s condition worse…” Even Hershel was prompted to add, “He’s right. No matter how much you love her, it isn’t proper to leave her corpse unburied for this long.” Alas, despite what they had said, his gaze remained glued on Wendy’s covered body, not even bothering to make a sound…

“I know this isn’t really you talking. It’s your pain. But you can’t keep pushing everyone away....especially the ones who need you.” I hesitated. “We also need to talk about Essence’s burial and...” “Don’t,” he cut in, his voice low but laced with venom. “Don’t you dare say that word around me.” I stopped. Just like that. There was no use pushing.

They didn’t need to. He didn’t ask her name. She didn’t ask him why he helped her. Some silences were safer than answers. Then, just before he stood to leave, he said something so strange it lodged in her memory like a thorn. “When they bury me, will you come?” She blinked. “Why would you say that?” He gave a lopsided shrug. “Men like me don’t get long lives. But maybe we get long enough to ask for something.” She didn’t understand it then. Couldn’t.

I motion for Eva to take her phone out and grab it to set up the recording button before I put the conversation on speaker. “Unfortunately, that is how it happened,” the guy just explains. “We had to bury him yesterday morning. My apologies for not waiting for you, but there was no much time…” “I am sure there wasn’t,” I reply, fake regret dripping from my voice. “And why didn’t you call me earlier?”