Gravestone Stories Novels & Stories

Too many read ‘Fell in the war,’ while others offer a personal farewell. I recognize some of the logos… former members of The Shadows or other existing packs. Yet there are unknown symbols too. One, featuring a snake, that I have seen on some of Zombie's members; there are so many graves marked with it, most stating they were lost in the war. It gives me the unsettling impression that an entire pack was wiped out. Other stones bear faded logos of a rearing horse or a crudely drawn cat. Inside the graveyard, the expanse seems endless. So many lives cut short, and though there are no dates on the stones, I can’t help but imagine that none of these souls lived to see old age.

Cold wind howls through the trees, reminding me that there is nothing around, of the endless chasm that stretches out before me. I place my sword back in its scabbard and turn back to the well-trodden path that leads to the manor. The earth turns to cobblestone, and I find myself turning to my side, where a part of the forest is cleared out. Tombstones stand there, more than forty. A personal graveyard for the once revered warrior dynasty of Greten. I used to think visiting was hard in the start, when others were standing next to me, shedding silent tears for the martyrs.

Half-buried in weeds. I turned, walked back to the car, and popped the trunk. A sledgehammer sat inside. Gift from a renovation company. Ribbon still tied on. Bright. Almost a joke. I grabbed it, walked back, and stopped in front of the headstone. Taking a breath, I tightened my grip around the cold metal. Then I swung. All in. Smashed it down. Crash. The sound ripped through the empty grounds. Bang. Again. And again. Until it was nothing but broken rubble.

"If.... If I'm ever going to have a baby again, I wish to have you again. That could... That could really make me feel so happy." I didn't even see what he or she looked like. It was still very much premature. I turned on the candle I brought with me, singing 'Happy Birthday' song to myself before turning off the candle. It was when I stood up, I noticed a dying flower by the side of the tombstone. I made a mental note to ask the old man who took care of the cemetery about it. A sharp pain grazed my stomach, making me halt. My hand curled into a fist. After I had regained consciousness, I moved my legs carefully. When I was sure enough that I wasn't feeling any pain again, I walked back to t

Yeah, I followed him. After an hour of staring at each other, the walls and ceiling, he spoke up. "Tomorrow is my parents death anniversary." I shifted uncomfortably. Hearing stories like this are really boring to me. You're probably thinking that I'm a psycho but that's how I roll. A tear slipped down his face.

"Anyone can have a once upon a time or a happily ever after, but it's the journey between that makes the story worth telling." -Chris Coffer- *** It was a quiet and sunny Sunday afternoon, In the vast graveyard lane, Ana was dressed in a soft black gown with two bouquets of red roses in her hand. She slowly walked over to her parent’s graves and gently placed the bouquet on top of the tomb. When Grigory was murdered he was buried right beside his wife whom he loved so much so the two of them could keep each other company even in death. She found it quite touching and to this day, Ana still regretted the fact she could not be there during his burial, which was why every few months she would c

“Hey, spread the news! The food at Ms. Graves’s food stall has cleansing properties!” “Ms. Graves is amazing!” The ghouls were all in a titter. The news quickly spread through the supernatural world like wildfire.

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

… Many years later, the once-prestigious Shaw family had long been forgotten by others. Father died of alcohol poisoning on a rainy night. He was found on the street with an empty bottle still clutched in his hand. Mother spent the rest of her life in a psychiatric hospital. Until her death, she kept murmuring the name of the one she owed her whole life to. Rebecca, abandoned in the city's most lawless area, was forced to sell herself to survive. In the darkest corners of the city, she struggled to continue living on—until one winter night, she ended her pitiful life silently.

Through The Graveyard’s encrypted site, she dealt with: assassination contracts, secret document leaks, laundering operations, political deals, and selling information. And Dante was getting sick of the fear The Graveyard was planting in the underworld. After every completed operation, one message was left behind—written by Celestina: “Every empire has a grave. I just dig faster.” …………… At the Vallenis estate. Bang. Bang. A knock sounded on the door. No response came. Ten seconds of silence followed. “Come in,” Dante responded, his voice low and cold. A man in a black silk, expensive tailored suit walked in. He gulped down a breath and stood still, gaze down, hands glued together behind him.