Grave Stories Novels & Stories

Every kindergarten had refused to accept him because of his violent tendencies. On the television, the news was reporting that a woman named Maisie Gray had won ten million dollars in the lottery. At that moment, Zoe suddenly went mad. She grabbed the knife in her hand and stabbed both Lucas and Edwin to death before stabbing herself. When the news reached me, I was drinking coffee in the villa I had just bought overseas. My father was fishing, my mother was tending to her flowers, and my brother was studying in Horvar. I still had a beautiful, happy life ahead of me.

As I stared blankly at the gravestone, the elderly cemetery caretaker approached and struck up a conversation with me. "Sir, do you know Old Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan? I don't think I've ever seen you here before." It was such a simple question, yet it made my heart throb in pain all the same. After all, who am I when the place that should have belonged to Jessica's husband had already been engraved with Christian's name? Although I was standing under the sunlight, I felt like some lowly rat that ought to hide in the shadows. How could I stand before these gravestones when I didn't have a respectable identity that I could claim aloud?

The air was heavy with the smell of old blood. I opened my eyes, expecting the white pillars of the Moon Goddess’s realm. Instead, I stood in a graveyard of white fur. Thousands of them. Massive Lycan wolves lay scattered across the grey stone as far as the horizon stretched. Their ribs were cracked open. Their chests were hollow, dark holes where their hearts had been systematically ripped out from the bone. My stomach heaved. I took two stumbles backward, my heel catching on a massive, lifeless paw. "Tola," I whispered.

With a frustrated sigh, Nat headed to the bathroom for a clean towel and headed back to the mirror to wipe away the mist, but just before she could wipe the last smudge off, she saw it… An image slowly forming on the mirror’s wet surface. A grinning skull. FUCK, IT WAS A FREAKING GRINNING SKULL! Natalie gasped, throwing the towel at the image as she stumbled back in fear. The skull’s image was fleeting, vanishing almost as quickly as it had appeared, and leaving Natalie scared as she stared at the now-clear mirror, her heart pounding rapidly in her chest. “What the fuck was that?” She whispered to herself, a shiver running down her spine.

so long as my death came after I’d achieved my goals. Highgate was truly beautiful this time of year, its frosted trees and shrubbery intermingling with the snowy graves. Foxes crept among the tombstones. Spiders wove glistening webs. Angel statues cried ice tears. Loretta and I wandered it aimlessly until we reached a section devoted to immortals. The graves here were all from the past year or two. Loretta stopped before one. “I knew him,” she said. The grave belonged to Billy Portbelly, a “devoted husband” who had perished a few months before.

Anyone fears him but those who are abandoned by their packs usually ends up in Casablanca as his new members only if they will agree to send their one son to be train with to a place they call, Gravedome. Just by the name of the place make the hairs at the back of my neck to straighten up. So so scary and super mysterious for the reason that all you will hear from the outside of the building are howls and lamentations like those werewolves that are sent will not survive a day... "What are you thinking? Let's eat already so that you will have time to enjoy your time in town. Drop by to the hospital later so that I will give you the documents that I will be working tonight... and don't forget

she whispered, her voice barely audible, "that's how we lost our brother." The world tilted on its axis. Her words, heavy with a grief I couldn't fathom, hung in the air, a chilling echo in the wake of Alexei's volatile outburst. A cold dread seeped into my bones. The image of Alexei, consumed by rage, his hands tightening around my throat, replayed in my mind, a horrifying echo of a tragedy past. The man I thought I was getting to know, the man who sparked both fear and fascination, was shrouded in a darkness I couldn't have imagined.

Even after everyone had paid their respects at my gravestone, I couldn’t find his figure among the crowd. As people began to disperse, only Troy and Mom remained at the gravestone. They shared one last glance before leaving. I sat idly in front of my gravestone, trying to appear strong. “Troy to choose such a nice photo. All those hours I spent editing it weren’t in vain, at least it’s serving a purpose now,” I said loudly, to no one in particular. Then my emotions suddenly burst forth like a dam breaking. The realization that I was dead and would never again sit with everyone I loved overwhelmed me, and I began to weep uncontrollably.

The stories of the wolf legends weren't just false folklore; they were true. Here, in this book, I had always had. It made mention of three wolves that birthed the wolf bloodlines. All but one were dead, Emmett. If he said he didn't belong here then he still thinks he had his home. In another universe or something else. Wait a minute. I went to my closet and picked up Emmett's urn. I read the hieroglyphics that were on it as I strolled to my bed.

The night tastes like blood. It stains the air, thick and metallic, clinging to my tongue no matter how many times I swallow. Bodies lie everywhere: wolves, vampires, and witches, all broken, torn, and twisted at angles no living thing should bend. This isn’t a battlefield anymore. It’s a graveyard. I move from person to person, checking pulses, forcing my hands to stay steady even though they won’t stop shaking. My dress or what’s left of it, is stiff with blood and dirt.