Graveyard Keeper Stories Novels & Stories

Years later. Maya - The Crown Prince’s bride I asked my best friend to sneak out the walls with me. It was a mission to see my parents. Reason was today was my birthday. An evil woman named Senora controlled Cithara, the place I lived. The guards shot at us, but we somehow managed to escape them. “Didn’t you hear the tales, Maya?” This person speaking above, is Garza. He is the gate keeper of the graveyard. “The myth of the night where the Great vampire prince, awakens. The one who has the ability to make the dead undead?”

“He’s right. But I remember you. I remember your first scar, your first heartbreak, your first lie.” Adanna’s eyes filled with tears. “Then remember this I’m not here to worship ghosts. I’m here to burn down the cage that holds you.” The hologram’s expression flickered sadness, pride, and something darker. “Then you’ll have to face the Keeper.” Victor stiffened. “Who’s the Keeper?” The light dimmed. The hologram’s voice shifted, metallic and cold. “The one who guards the truth.” And then, the power surged alarms blaring as the Vault came alive, walls shifting, data streams collapsing like waves of light.

“Oh, what an honor, Valnomak's blood in a modest vault. Glad to welcome you. I am Goodyear. My family has established itself as one of the best keepers. Pale skin and an unusual look betrayed a vampire. - Goodyear? I knew your creator, indeed there is no boasting in your words, your family faithfully serves the clans, even in times of trouble you behaved with dignity. It's nice that the necessary vampires are on the ground, and not slave plebeians. Brook-ta-man. He threw from his pocket, the things of the murdered man, onto a table decorated with a rich bas-relief. The watch, the chain, the wallet, all flowed smoothly into the center of the table. - Good for people. The vampire said, narrowi

"Do this one thing for me, and I'll set you for life." The graveyard keeper stood there and stared at her silhouette as if trying to figure out if she was human. He did not need to ask why she wanted the hole dug deeper; he knew what she was planning, and after witnessing her being dumped into the grave and left there to die, he did not blame her.

The same intensity Winter had seen in Clara, in Seren, in all the witnesses who had come to the garden afraid and stayed anyway. "What work?" Winter asked. Solenne's voice was steady. "The watcher said I am to be the keeper of the stories. The ones that have not yet been written. The ones that are still being lived." Winter felt the anchor sense surge—the first time she had felt it strongly since becoming keeper. "The watcher chose you." Solenne nodded. "The watcher chose me." --- Winter showed Solenne the garden—the stone bench, the graves, the gold flowers that covered every inch of soil. The watcher's attention was soft and warm, and the blooms pulsed with a light that seemed to welcome t

Once we reached the cemetery, he paused for a second, “I haven’t been here in years.” “We don’t have to, -“ I started, but Zev stopped me. “We do.” I followed Zev around the different gravestones. There were a lot of them. How many of these people had been killed by hunters? “Some packs burn their dead. Especially smaller packs that don’t have the space. Maintaining a grave costs money and time, or it will overgrow and, -“ he said, turning to face me. “Sorry, I’m nervous, so I’m spouting facts. But Luna Grace is the one who keeps my mother’s grave in order.”

Sometimes, I think of Cassie and Damon. They are not gone. They walk the garden in the quiet. Their names bloom in every seed planted. Their laughter lives in the pages of books, the ripples of lakes, the songs sung around Sanctuary campfires. Sometimes, late at night, I flicker brighter, just in case Grace is still writing. She always is. And the vault? Still sealed. Still waiting. Every decade, the Flamekeepers gather around it. They open the new submissions, journals, sketches, coded dreams, solar poems, sky-written vows.

If Keever’s story was true, he was indeed responsible for the murder of almost twenty people. “I knew they were coming. I tried to take the vessel but, it… it took control of me.” “Control?” Likaya felt uneasy, as she looked at the door behind her. The Keeper was just at the basement. “It spoke, not in a language but with suggestions. With emotions and I listened. Within a second, I was within the form of some gigantic creature and I. I.” Keever began to sob, holding in his tears as he faced the wall he lay against.

"Hello, Alpha Reeves. I believe you owe me a debt." The Cemetery Keeper had come to collect. Kai's hand found Tamara's in the dark. "Whatever he wants," he whispered, "we face it together." But Tamara knew better. The Cemetery Keeper always collected alone. And the price was always higher than you expected. The door opened without anyone touching it. The Cemetery Keeper stood there, suit perfect, smile sharp. "Shall we discuss payment?”

said the Hell Guard slowly. “However, after the patriarch of the Wyatt family passed, no one went to maintain the grave plot. The gravekeeper also started to stray from his post. Weeds grew rampant around the grave. Not long ago, Bianca Winter visited the gravekeeper and bought him off. The gravekeeper exhumed your father’s remains and gave his skull to her. The rest of the skeleton is still under his care. He was waiting for the right time to make use of it.” The Hell Guard brought over a skeleton without a skull.