Funny Tombstones That Are Impossible Not To Laugh At Novels & Stories

“They say that Father Albert has been furious about the matter. He has asked the city council to post soldiers at the entrance to the cemetery in order to prevent it from happening again. " "Father Albert?" "The priest of Mortis of the church of the six great gods." "And who is the 'Tomb Raider'?" Viktor asked nervously. “The name has its origin in the popular fable that parents tell their children to scare them and make them behave well. But now it seems that the "Tomb Raider" is not a simple scary tale for children, after all. The first bodies began to disappear at the end of last year. Three in a few months. The first was hardly missed, since it belonged to a hanged criminal. The second w

He chewed the tender inside lining of his cheek, staring at a gruesome Latex lawn zombie which sprouted from the neighbor’s darkened yard across the street. “Nope,” Tommy agreed, hands stuffed into his pants pockets against the chill. They had been outside the Deadmond home for half-an-hour or so, hashing over what had happened, the resurrection they’d witnessed. Richard couldn’t shake the feeling it was no miracle, but instead, that—like the rubber zombie rising up across the street—what they had seen in the church was more than just unnatural. Unclean, was a word that leapt to mind. And then spotting the Sallow Man like that, on top of it? Too fucking bizarre to even contemplate, to even h

What kind of funeral is this? ------------------------------ I leaned on the strong mauringa tree as Mom spoke to Chima's wife, Amaka. I watched as everyone that went over to the grave placed a red rose on it. Some real, a lot fake. His tomb stone was decorated with several military medals and honors. All of which shone brightly in the sun. Like they were trying to shed more light on the fact that everything I knew about him, was nothing but a lie. An ex-marshal!

But the frowned turn to laugh all of sudden when I saw how his smile faded. "Why are you laughing?" He then sighed like a child. I didn't know grim reaper can be funny like this. How I wish to see Saint pouting like this. Maybe that's more interesting. Damn! I can't imagine. "You are ridiculous." "Tsk! Everyone's tells that." "Great, at the list I'm not the only one"

move to another place! Indeed there are five to six tombs on the right and left sides of this tomb. Rows of these strange tombs are in the backyards of several houses. Isn't it very strange... to put the grave behind the house? Burdak looked to the right…and Boro felt that there is nothing strange there. He then tried to get to the end side…and walked further away to the left…Boro is getting more and more restless. He felt there is something dangerous down there… in the last tomb on the far left. He doesn't want to see the tomb… what is it? Why? He is surprised. 'Stop... I don't want to go to the last tomb… I feel something is wrong there.. Look for Randu elsewhere. Maybe in the backyard of

He cried in his place as he looked at the tombstone. The caretakers placed it symmetrically as Jane howled in her place while Justin was holding her in place. She glanced at the tombstone as she fell down on the floor while her hands were covering her mouth. She sobbed uncontrollably as she couldn't control the surge of emotions through her heart. She glanced the other way as she sighed and cried too much from her will. She licked her lips as she bit it while Justin slipped his arms on his mother's shoulders. Stan was watching nearby and he looked the other way as he shed tears too.

Jax parked not far from Nick Davis' tombstone, and they continued their journey on foot. The San Jose Hill's Management filled the cemetery area with neatly cut grass. The area resembled a hill, so the roads were uneven. Some parts were a bit slippery, especially when it rained. Ann and Jax stood in front of the tombstone. Ann crouched down and placed a bouquet in front of a tombstone bearing Nick Davis's name.

The gym reeked of sweat, glue, and aerosol paint. Heat pooled beneath the rafters and refused to leave; the wheezing fans only pushed it around like a bad smell. Streamers hung in arterial swags—deep reds, bruised browns, oily blacks—dripping from beams as if they’d grown there, pulsing on their own. Jasmine crouched over a row of fake headstones, a slash of grey on her cheek where she’d absently wiped at sweat with paint still wet on her fingers. The names were jokes, inside references and petty digs—HERE LIES MATHS, R.I.P. CURFEW, TRAVIS’S BRAIN (ABSENT)—but every time she wrote R.I.P. her stomach pinched. She kept seeing the letters scrawled in the sand, perfect and wrong, with no footpri

Nothing. We sit again, looking around. I see Leana’s head tilt to the side as she frowns. I look up and see an ‘N’ painted on the trim that encircles the gazebo. “That’s not north,” she says quietly. “What would ‘N’ mean?” “No idea,” I say, thinking. When nothing comes to mind, we stand and make our way to an old tomb. “Do you think there are really the remains of people here, or is this a farce to hide the fact that so many became vampires?” she asks me as we walk through the mausoleum.

Nothing. We sit again, looking around. I see Leana’s head tilt to the side as she frowns. I look up and see an ‘N’ painted on the trim that encircles the gazebo. “That’s not north,” she says quietly. “What would ‘N’ mean?” “No idea,” I say, thinking. When nothing comes to mind, we stand and make our way to an old tomb. “Do you think there are really the remains of people here, or is this a farce to hide the fact that so many became vampires?” she asks me as we walk through the mausoleum.