Graveyard Dance Novels & Stories

Timing was everything and they were almost done setting up the tables. Food platters were on the tables lining the living room wall and a makeshift bar was already operational. Fairy lights were everywhere and I had to admit that Jessica had outdone herself. “You look beautiful,” I said as we stepped inside. “I thought I was dressing for a party,” she said. “It’s a party now,” I said and turned her around as music started playing. Kiran gave us one full dance before he tapped me on the shoulder as the next song started and I stepped back and danced with Adara. This was the pack’s acceptance and we would dance with everyone in the order of their rank.

Avila wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand as she slid down the stripper pole for the fifth time that night. It was exhausting! The club was packed, and she could feel the eyes of the customers on her as she danced to the beat of the music. She tried to ignore the lewd comments and catcalls, focusing instead on the money that was being thrown at her feet. It was the only thing that made the job bearable and worth it. It was the only thing still pushing her to grind and rock her body on the tall pole - the money.

Thomas smiled before kissing my forehead and walking out the door. As I fell asleep, I found myself trapped back into the vision I had when I was at my old school. I was back in the graveyard. I looked around seeing all of the newly dug graves with all my loved ones' names on it. but in a graveyard. In the distance was the figure that was in all black, only this time I could see their eyes. They were lime green, they glowed under their black hood. Something familiar about them. When I glanced away from the figure, I noticed that the grave in front of me was not my own but was Rowan. The large stone was cracked in the middle. The grave was old. I couldn’t understand why I was seeing that.

Blood spattered against the dirty concrete floor. Dmitry paused, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Now," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "that's more like it." The older man's body was shaking with pain, his face contorted in a grimace. His screams filled the air, bouncing off the cold, hard walls.

I didn't intend to drill Tyler for information because I respected her position as Paul's Beta. "Let's dance." I had to change the subject. "We're getting too serious, and this is a party after all." She grinned and jumped out of her chair. She and I let loose on the trampled grass and dirt that made up the dance floor. Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London began to play and the Wolves really lost it, filling the night air with howls of Ahooo! Their combined howls made me shiver in longing. I wanted to howl with them but I understood that this was their song.

When was I going to get used to this? Cameron nudged me slightly. “Dance?” he asked, putting forth his hand. I hesitated at first, remembering our last conversation. But Cameron and I both knew there could be nothing more than friendship between us. “Why not.” I shrugged. The dance floor was chaotic in the best way. Flashing lights. Loud music that was changed into something slow and calming. I recognized the song, it was save a life by the fray. Bodies moving slowly in every direction. Cameron was surprisingly good at dancing for someone dressed like he was about to fight off all the zombies in the world, he was pretty good on his feet.

Thirteen Months Ago-JANUARY 11th, 2025 The cemetery in Daisy Field was a graveyard of repressed desires, shielded by a sea of black umbrellas and the heavy Florida humidity. Bethany Evers stood at the grave's edge, her hips swaying with a grace that suggested she was mourning a lover rather than a priest. She daintily dabbed at her eyes as Sister Patrice wailed a hymn, but her focus was elsewhere. She adjusted her push-up bra, hoisting her generous breasts upward the moment she caught her ex-boyfriend Rupert looking. She wanted everyone to know that while the holy Father was dead, the town harlot was very much alive.

She slowly rose onto the balls of her feet, her arms arching gracefully into first position. The music wasn't playing, but she could hear it in her head. A sad, broken melody that told the story of a king and a dancer who had everything, until the world decided they had too much. She began to move, a slow, tentative pirouette. As she spun, the tears finally fell, splashing onto the polished wood. She was dancing again, but she was dancing in a graveyard.

I was ever a considerate person. My watch vibrated and I went to the DJ. It was my turn for a dance tonight. He looked at me with a frown at my choice of a song, but I nodded and he shrugged. The stage went dim as I walked with the chair. As the song ‘Gravedigger’ played, I moved to the chair. I was feeling a little mellow and wanted to piss Blade off a lot. I could feel the stares. This was unexpected, especially for me. Halfway through the song, I was on the pole and the only thing I took off was the robe, nothing else.

*Dау Tеn: The grief оvеrwhеlmѕ mе. Thеrе іѕ nothing lеft tо hоре fоr. I am like a rоbоt. I’m a puppet, doing what I’m tоld tо gеt through. Dаnсе, Sаrаh, dance.