Grave Story Novels & Stories

There was nobody there, nothing at all. Jared stared at it. His mouth opened but no sound came out at first. Then a noise erupted from the back of his throat, it was something between a sob and a growl. "What in the-" One gravedigger leaned over to look, his eyes wide with astonishment. "Where's the body?" "Someone must have stolen it.” Jared whispered shakily. His heart thumping wildly.” Maybe grave robbers found the body or someone performed an act of necromancy.”

“Interesting,” Calisté stared up at Ghost. “I don’t think I’ve heard this story before.” “I never bothered to tell you,” Ghost smiled. “But I think I can now. I found Draymond’s body in a cave, abandoned, mud stained and stinking. Apparently, he had been dead for days. When I found him, he was already breeding maggots from his body but nothing is too hard for Calisté I suppose.” Ghost smiled at Calisté and she frowned and turned away looking at Jimin who seemed to be disappointed in her just hearing the beginning of the story.

In 1983 a Mrs Carson of New York was laid out in our coffin, presumed dead of hear disease. As mourners watched, she suddenly sat up, alive as you or I. Unfortunately her daughter dropped dead of fright on the spot. I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon. You can send me your short stories for a feature if you feel like it. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!I don't own any of this stories. I found them in some creepy books. I'm thinking of writing my own scary stories, but not anytime soon.

"I—I don't know! Maybe he found it! Or stole it! He's changing the subject! What does this have to do with skipping work?" "What does this have to do with skipping work?" I smirked, yanked the projector cable, and plugged in my main phone. No signal. Didn't matter. Gallery still worked. I tapped the video I shot by the pickup. The screen lit up—wrecked truck, no plates. In the back—red paint, and half a burned headstone photo. Even scorched, my face was still there. Shocked whispers rippled through the room. "Oh my God, that's for a headstone?"

“There’ve been whispers. Nothing solid. Just… rumors. There was one I’d heard about a grave.” My brow arched. “A grave?” “Yes. An empty one. They said two corpses lay on either side, drained dry. Whoever stumbled on it swore it was linked to Dracula himself.” I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt. “Dracula? Really? That’s the story floating around? Most of those tales are campfire trash meant to spook kids.” Her frown deepened, though a flicker of curiosity lingered in her gaze. “Maybe. I’ve never seen a vampire myself. Tell me the truth are they trying to spark another war?”

It gave off a stench so vile it was beyond words. Chunks of dried concrete still clung to me. My exposed skin was blotched with livor mortis, and my face held just enough to hint at who I used to be. Jayden stood frozen, eyes locked on my corpse like someone had hit pause and left him stuck in that moment. "No way… No way…" Jayden muttered, his expression twisting into something unreadable, his voice barely a whisper. Hank gave his shoulder a gentle pat. "What's done is done, Jay. You've got to let it go."

I felt a tear roll down my cheek and Adam pulled me into his side and put his arm over my shoulders and wiped away the tear. “Granny kept her gift secret, but she would tell me all her stories and what she saw. She talked about a battle between good and evil and five elements that would have their own distorted mirrors and she talked about pieces of a puzzle all slotting into place.” “Puzzle pieces again,” Kaeleigh scoffed. “I swear I never liked jigsaw puzzles. I’m really beginning to hate them now.” she screwed her face up, and I laughed. “Granny talked about you too,” I said, and she looked shocked.

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.

And he falls silent. Waiting for my response? "That's good," I say, "because I don't want to share you either." He smiles and sits back, sipping his wine, his expression thoughtful. "Tell me about 'redbreast' and 'ravens'," he says. "I expected you to simply give me 'yellow' and 'red' or something similar. It sounds as though there is a story behind the two words." "It's from when I was a little girl," I say. "There were ravens at the bottom of our garden, and when I was small, they seemed so huge."

They must be hiding, too. Of course, there are still things that I do not understand yet. For example, what’s the real deal about that hotel’s monster? And who shot Stacey? How did these bodies arrive here? What is really going on? Or what if we’ve been in reality all along? It is not that long when we have found Stacey’s grave first. We stand in front of her to say a little prayer for her soul. Her grave is neatly covered in gravel, unlike the others, which seems like they have done sloppily. Steven might have done this earlier.