Graveyard Tales Novels & Stories

I nodded in acknowledgment even though I’d never been here before. Well… not consciously. Maybe a childhood memory lurked. Maybe I’d forgotten. Maybe Valentina erased it. The gates creaked open. Inside the Garden… …was a graveyard. A labyrinth of metal trees, each one hung with shifter parts, claws, pelts, teeth, fur, like macabre decorations. Wolves. Panthers. Boar-shifters. Bear-shifters. Even rare avian talons. A museum of extinction. And beneath them, cages.

Twice he crossed paths with Bain, but his friend had learned nothing, either. With less than an hour of darkness left, he headed for the cemetery that was the rumored source of the zombies. The graveyard was well-guarded, telling him the rumors were probably true. He remained hidden far back from the illuminated area and carefully surveyed the scene. He counted forty graves that had been dug up—whether the digging had occurred from above the ground or below he couldn’t tell. There were no signs of any heavy equipment having been used in the graveyard, so he leaned toward the idea that the corpses had dug themselves out. The alternative—that a large group of diggers had uncovered the graves t

Since he decided to help might as well go all out. Once their wounds were tended to, Tales turned his attention to the bodies outside. He stepped into the yard, shovel in hand he found in the storage. The weight of what he was about to do pressed down on him, but he pushed it aside. He started digging near the far edge of the property, where the earth was soft. The work was grueling, each shovelful of dirt feeling heavier than the last. Tales didn’t stop until the hole was deep enough. One by one, he dragged the corpses to the grave. Some were strangers, men he didn’t recognize, but others were familiar faces—people he had seen in passing around the estate. He doesn't care. He refused to car

"Because you were about to lock it in. Marry her. Make it permanent. I waited. I gave you time to see it yourself. You used every second to build your clean little life on top of his body and I just kept watching you do it." "If he's really gone," Jose started, "then why dig all this up now, why make me—" "He's not gone." Rainer's voice cracked on the last word like something breaking under too much weight. He looked away. Looked back. "I dug the grave last week. It's empty, Jose. He's been hiding. He's scared. And he hates us both for letting it get that far. For letting her get that close to finishing it."

From the helicopter, I watched Alfred race to the crash site, clutching the fallen license plate, crying out, "Helen, Ruby..." It did not take long for the internet to explode with news of Ruby and I dying in that fiery wreck. I held my sleeping Ruby tight, put away my phone, and whispered, "This is it, Alfred. We're done for good." Alfred was haunted, thinking it was all some nightmare. He would slap himself, pinch his skin, and even jab himself with a knife, desperate to snap out of it. However, the pain, sharp and undeniable, kept telling him the brutal truth.

#Reality# I and Jessy enquired for the address of the authoress, but unfortunately, it was reported that she had died of cancer 2 months ago, but her child Troy is still in town, living with his uncle (Katherine's brother) no one in the theatre knew were they stayed, but the fact that he is here in New York gives us big chance of finding him easily, my father being a vampire and Katherine being a mortal human, makes Troy a half breed vampire with limitations to his abilities It was approaching dusk, so we departed back home, without completing the supposed mission, which was to find Troy's crib. Jessy and I together with Linx, Dexter, Tessa and Anna had boarded a cab back home, but on getti

"Okay, I had to take my breath there. So, the peoples' cries alerted Generosasis, with nothing left in her heart but hatred and the cloud above her eyes sprouted by betrayal— she couldn't decipher anything but follow her instincts. She roared in anger, and a ball of fire rolled out of her enormous mouth, hitting the houses across the library. That night, some generations perished, and hundreds of people died, Dordin being one of them. Generosasis murdered the man she claimed to love, she murdered her sister and a dozen families. Now, Deborah, that is the tale of Dordin, what do you think about it?" I cleared my throat, "I think it's the most fascinating story, I also think Dordin's story sho

I had four days left before the poison consumed my organs entirely. All I wanted was to spend whatever time I had left with the woman I loved, but I could not reach her. The next day, I learned that Enzo Marchetti, the first love she had never forgotten, had returned from overseas. "Let's get divorced. The love of my life is back." I clutched my chest as a searing pain tore through it. "I'm at the family hospital. I've been poisoned. The doctors won't let me leave.” Her voice turned sharp and cruel. "I don't care if you're poisoned or dying. Even if you drop dead the next second, you need to come back and sign the papers." The last trace of warmth inside me went cold. I answered calmly,

The graveyard appeared through the mist without warning. Old stone markers half buried in earth. Tall grass growing between them undisturbed for what looked like decades. The kind of place the living had stopped visiting long enough that the ground had taken it entirely back. I stopped at the edge and pushed the Blood-Bind thread into the soil and felt immediately what was feeding the mist. Something was growing here that had no business being as alive as it was. Roots run deep into the burial ground, drawing up the grief that had been laid into the earth over generations and converting it into something that served Morvanna and Kaelen's purpose.

Graveyards are the final resting place for the dead. They are where the endless souls dance for eternity under a moonlit forever. The souls of the cemetery held onto Jeremy but didn't take him down into the land of Hades. He fought, and he held onto life just for me. Death is where the ravens swirl in their endless circles. Hunger finds them, and nails dig into their prey. We are all called by death in the end. The grim reaper himself holds his scythe and carries it along as a walking stick. Walking sticks are used to guide souls on the path to Hades. If I discover Hades, I will find my mom. I will find her there beneath the bones of her final breath.