Gothic Graveyard Novels & Stories

The digital countdown clock on the vault wall hit the sixty seconds. 01:00 00:59 00:58 "Deborah stop the van!" Marcus bellowed. We skidded onto the dark cobblestone street outside the iron gates of Trinity Church. The ancient graveyard was a forest of gray tombstones. They were hidden in the driving rain. The dark brick spire of the church rose up into the black clouds like a warning finger. Marcus threw the sliding door open. He grabbed the iron container. Lunged toward the hidden concrete maintenance hatch near the base of the cemetery wall.

"I'm done being afraid of Marcus Calloway." The cemetery was a sprawling garden of the dead on the city's northern edge, old oaks and marble angels and winding gravel paths that crunched beneath the Maybach's tires. The gates were locked at sunset, but Devon's security team had already contacted the groundskeeper, and a man in a heavy coat and a bewildered expression was waiting to let us through.

Jaxon held Ruby’s waist as he led her through the graveyard. She tightly pressed her body into his as they passed various marble graves. The place was well taken care of. She could tell from how clean the headstones looked, there was not a speck of dust,the lush green grass was properly trimmed and there were vibrant flowers around. A testament that it was a place where the rich and affluent were put to rest in splendor. Jaxon stopped In front of a marble graveyard. It was gleaning under the sunlight and Ruby’s eyes burned when she looked at the headstone. She read her sister’s tombstone and tears started to fall from her eyes.

We both walked down the street together but he walked faster, dragging me towards the graveyard. Preston Graveyard. EST 1504. "That's pretty old." I said and the boy nodded while taking me into the graveyard. I walked with him and gushed at the prettiness of the place. The white roses stood out the most . At the middle of the graveyard, there was a huge circle with beautiful flowers and butterflies. It looked so alive. I walked towards the grave and smiled at the glass tombstone. Mabel Adriana Carter 234AD -1999 My birth year. My birthday. I frowned and shook my head in pain. Don't think like that.

His voice was ragged, his chest heaving under his soaked shirt. "I’m fine," I lied for the hundredth time. I was definitely not fine. I was shivering so hard my teeth were clicking together, and the heavy satchel of ledgers was banging against my hip, bruising me with every movement. But I wasn't letting go of those books. Not now. The graveyard sat on a small hill, surrounded by a rusted iron fence that looked like jagged teeth against the gray sky. It was a lonely, creepy place even on a sunny day, but in this storm, it felt like the set of a horror movie. We needed to get to the SUV Henry had stashed for us just past the cemetery gates. It was our ticket out of this nightmare.

A shiver immediately runs down my spine as my feet touch the graveyard soil. Maybe it’s only because the cemetery is in the shadow of the forest, but it feels immediately colder and darker on this side of the fence. I follow a lightly trampled path, noticing that there are no flowers in sight, except for the fragile snowdrops sprouting like white ghosts between the headstones. Usually in a graveyard, you’d expect to see bunches of flowers in various stages of decay placed on at least some of the graves by mourners. But the graves are bare, neglected, forgotten. I don't remember them looking so decrepit.

The graveyard sat on a hill overlooking the city, a stretch of green caged behind rusted iron gates that had not been painted in decades. Wind slipped through the bare branches of the ancient oaks, carrying the scent of wet earth and decay, something older and heavier, like stone soaked in centuries of rain. The sky was low and gray, pressed flat against the horizon, and a thin mist clung to the ground, curling around the headstones like fingers reaching for something they could not hold.

The graveyard appeared through the mist without warning. Old stone markers half buried in earth. Tall grass growing between them undisturbed for what looked like decades. The kind of place the living had stopped visiting long enough that the ground had taken it entirely back. I stopped at the edge and pushed the Blood-Bind thread into the soil and felt immediately what was feeding the mist. Something was growing here that had no business being as alive as it was. Roots run deep into the burial ground, drawing up the grief that had been laid into the earth over generations and converting it into something that served Morvanna and Kaelen's purpose.

Ophelia laughed amused at her vague response. "Sounds horrible." She smiled, shaking her head. "I wouldn't say that he's just and I'm just you know it's hard to explain." Ophelia chuckled. "It will get better." Lilith sighed seeing they arrived at their destination. "Everyone keeps saying that." She wondered when their words were was going to come true. "We're here." Lilith looked around it was the graveyard for the fallen. The gravestones were made out of ice that couldn't melt, names were engraved on them.

that had fallen over on its back. To the left of the horizontal structure was a small cemetery with many headstones, each covered with green moss and lichen, and leaning on the undulating landscape like the misshapen molars of some giant stone ogre. And it was through these tombstones that Patience Userkaf and Elmo hastily made their way, eager to get to the church before the sun shut up shop for the day. ‘Why us?’ Patience muttered. ‘That’s all I have to say.’