Grave Digger Ghost Novels & Stories

She knew that. "For God sake, I'm older than this motherfucker" she cursed beneath her breath as wandered the graveyard. She went there after school hours or when she wasn't busy teasing Austin, for some reason she felt at peace here. Maybe because she was a Ghost, but it was one place she felt alive. She came across Austin's mothers grave and thought about using her as a perfect revenge plot, but she knew it would jeopardise any plan of her getting help from him. So she cancelled that option

My heart began to beat faster as I walked past the sea of graves I usually hate. I reached the sharp corner of the direction leading to my father’s grave. My heart skipped a bit as I locked eyes on my father’s grave. The gravedigger was seated on it with his legs spread wide apart in the air. He was naked. Completely naked. His mouth fell open as he locked his eyes with mine. I swallowed hard before my eyes trailed below. His index finger was sliding in and out of his pinkish goddamn hole. My cock throbbed.

The same grave he swore she wasn’t dead in. The diggers work fast, mercenaries I’ve hired under fake names, paid in crypto and silence. The soil gives way easily, too easily for something meant to have rested undisturbed for over a decade. When the spade strikes metal, I feel it in my bones. “Stop,” I say. The men step back. I climb down, mud pulling at my boots. My gloves scrape against the surface of a steel coffin, modern, industrial, nothing like the ornate box in the burial photos. Someone changed it.

Twice he crossed paths with Bain, but his friend had learned nothing, either. With less than an hour of darkness left, he headed for the cemetery that was the rumored source of the zombies. The graveyard was well-guarded, telling him the rumors were probably true. He remained hidden far back from the illuminated area and carefully surveyed the scene. He counted forty graves that had been dug up—whether the digging had occurred from above the ground or below he couldn’t tell. There were no signs of any heavy equipment having been used in the graveyard, so he leaned toward the idea that the corpses had dug themselves out. The alternative—that a large group of diggers had uncovered the graves t

The funeral for Ghost feels slow. I stand over his tombstone and build up the guilt inside. Ghost was supposed to take my lead to destroy the secret bases of the Order, but the mole sent by them betrayed him. I let the rain pour down on me as I stare at his name and the titles he's been given: a comrade, a friend, a brother, a Dagger. His grave is in a private field owned by Odin for those who have fallen. I closed my eyes and wished to return to time and save him and Poppy.

Clad in a jogging suit, she embarked on a lengthy walk, hoping it would grant her the deep, peaceful sleep she had been lacking for the past three days. As she jogged through the area, an old graveyard caught her eye. Attempting to change the song on her headphones, she was interrupted by a chilling scream that made her scan her surroundings. Intrigued and a bit unnerved, she noticed an SUV in the graveyard, surrounded by men fervently digging. "What the heck?" she muttered, taking cautious steps toward them. Amidst the secret activity, a familiar voice reached her ears. "You said to bury you in the graveyard, but you didn't specify alive or dead?" The speaker remained unseen, adding an eeri

I began to chant as I felt the blood of Ares mixing with my own until I could feel his power coursing through my veins. I lift my hand and outstretched it until my long black fingernail was technically touching the barrier around the clearing. I watch as the tip of my nails began to bend until it melt. I smirked before retracting my hand. "Ester darling, I see you are not happy that I am visiting you today." I spoke and summoned one of my crows. This one name was Ghost, he had a liking for lost souls that lingered on earth.He could spot them quickly, something I have used him for occasionally when I want to suck some of the souls power. There is nothing more delicious than a wandering soul.

On the contrary, the cemetery in the forest was so desolate and quiet. In front of the grave, a figure suddenly appeared. The next second, the figure picked up the iron shovel and quickly dug up the grave while no one noticed. In less than a moment, the grave was dug open. The bottom of the grave was not deep, only half a meter. Obviously, it was done in a hurry. In the grave, a straw mat swept over a corpse. When the straw mat was pulled open, it turned out to be the "dead" Samuel.

No matter how hard she tried to make them clean, her hands stayed dirty. A little way in the distance, some men were digging a pit. They were throwing some of the bodies inside, mostly the ones dressed in blue. They would topple down the slopes, falling on top of each other, like marionettes whose strings had been cut. She tried to yell at the gravediggers not to go so fast. She hadn’t checked those men yet. She didn’t know if they were tossing in a familiar face. But they continued their work as if they could not see or hear her.