Graveyard Keeper Stories Novels & Stories

He grimaced and stopped it. And back to the garden in May. He was standing alone there at night, and his mild smile made me want to jump into the screen to hug him and kiss him. Not the main screen, but the smaller one, where he seemed to breathe deep and glance down for a heartbeat. “That was the first time I ever talked with Fran Garner, the current keeper of Blotter Manor,” he said from the garden. “A very special young woman, I thought back then. None of us had any idea how special. Right the next night I had a little proof.”

"Well that's not creepy" She tried looking for a way out of the cemetery but couldn't find one. How could a Cemetery not have a gate she wondered. So how did she get here? All these questions with no answers, she decided to kill time by moving around from grave to grave reading the names of people who died and mocking those who didn't live a long life. "How could he die so early, I wondered if it was his crazy ex who did that to him" she laughed after coming across a 21-year-old's grave.

The one I heard in my dreams and in that memory of Elara. “What’s a Keeper?” I asked quietly. Lydia sat down on the edge of the bed. “Keepers are ancient beings born once every few centuries. They’re extremely rare and extremely powerful.” “What do they do?” “They maintain balance. Between the living and the dead. Between all creatures. They’re almost like…” She paused, searching for words. “Walking gods, in a way.” My mouth went dry. “That’s impossible. I’m not a god.” “Not a god. But you have power that most creatures don’t. Power to affect the balance of nature itself.”

He had always treated me with unconditional kindness, yet I had never returned it equally. Standing before my grave, I finally felt a sense of peace and acceptance. But then, Ryan pushed over my tombstone and began digging into my grave with his transformed claws. What was he doing? Someone needed to stop him! I was furious and anxious. He had never let me rest when I was alive, and even in death, he wouldn't leave me in peace. He should have been the one to give me a home, a safe place to belong. But it was Leo who had given me a tombstone, and now Ryan wanted to destroy even that.

“When you knocked on the door, I expected you to be Kyra. I expected a gun to be pointed at my chest. I did not expect you and Corina’s head.” “You are really trying to tell me that everyone is dead?” “Come with me.” He rises from his seat and heads to the door. “Let me show you something.” I follow him from his office out through another door that led to a garden. “You can’t smell it because they are buried.” He points to hundreds of plots of heaped dirt. A single rock on top of each pile. His own little graveyard. “Why did you let this happen?” I stare at him in shock.

It was all fantastical. “Now the tragic history of the inn keepers of the Blue Moon Inn. Are you comfortable speaking about this?” “History records a number of the Inn Keeper have met unfortunate ends or mysterious end.” “None of the death have been solved. Is that correct?” Greta tried to keep her voice gentle while probing. This led into Berry’s storytelling. The introduction of the investigative board. Finally, the facts they’d found to back up the stories. “No.” Gabby was uncomfortable discussing this.

And as the monster smashed the ground, there was an earthquake tearing from him to the Shaders, and the fast ones took the lesser ones out of the track. "I'm the Keeper, keeper of Purgatory. And I shall claim this land to extend my territory," the Keeper pronounced clenching a fist. "Now, I bring my true army, my warriors." More horrible creatures crawled out behind him, actually affirmatively an army as he claimed. They were countless and more defying than the previous. "Oh my God," Alisa exclaimed with a fallen jaw. "By the time I'm done with Shade, it'll be nothing but oblivion."

Could feel their stories fading. Could feel time running out. The little girl stepped closer. “Ama.” Ama looked down at her. The child's eyes shone with hope. And fear. “Do we disappear now?” The question shattered the silence. No one answered. Because no one knew. The Keeper finally spoke. The Sea cannot remain empty forever. The words landed like stones. The Last Dreamer closed his eyes. He looked tired. So very tired. Centuries. Millennia. An eternity spent carrying stories that were never his.

The graves' stories now held a deeper significance – not solely as markers of lives past, but as emblems of a larger struggle against corporate greed and environmental degradation. ‌ As they retraced their steps towards their lodging, Carlin and Vanya were infused with a renewed sense of purpose. The tales they had unearthed, from the villagers' hardships to the ecological consequences, formed a mosaic that begged to be unveiled to the world. ‌ "Who would have thought that a cemetery held such hidden truths?" Carlin pondered, her voice tinged with wonder. ‌ Vanya nodded in agreement. "Sometimes, the least expected places house the answers we seek."

"Yeah but my dead girlfriend is buried here too. And so is my mom. Foster Mom. This is literally the worst–" "Robert Barrison. I've had just enough with you" the voice thundered up in Robert's head, making him groan in discomfort, holding his ears to try and numb the pain. "Did you know that there are about seventeen different ways to kill a person in a graveyard? Now if you don't shut up, and let me do everything from now on, I swear on the supreme ones, I'm going to take you through every single one of them." After hearing nothing but the night calls of owls, and a submissive man in his early twenties, it continued.