روايات وقصص ضمن Graveyard Tales

The ones who wanted to view Connie: Roxie, Walker, Crystal, Jadis, Jaleesa and Jenny did so quickly, quietly, as Corey, Walker, Evans, Metgar, Dante, and another one of Metgar’s soldiers, Ryan, carried the coffin down to the river where men had worked to dig a hole on the embankment. Jadis chanted the entire time, but it was calming to the group. As she began her speech, the men grappled with the long belts wrapped around the coffin, using all of the strength they had to lower it into the ground. A sob left Crystal as the coffin disappeared from sight. “Connie..” Jadis said as she continued chanting in some language that no one understood except for Jaleesa. Thunder rolled in the distance as

“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.

With a final, grateful twitter, the bird spirit's light went out, and its form crumbled like glowing, white sand in my hands and vanished into the snowdrift. I could hear its song in the wind, and my stomach lurched as the horror settled on my mind. Every granule, every whisper of wind, every bit of light had once been a shifter's animal spirit. I had known before that this was a graveyard, but this... This was something different. A dumping ground, a mass grave where no single spirit maintained any sense of what it had once been.

Jules asked as they returned to the cab. “Don’t think so,” Cameron inspected himself. “What happens if I do?” “Burns through cloth, and burns through you,” Jules said grimly. “Have to wash it off quick in the river.” “F-k,” Cameron shook his head incredulously. “Will burn through the gloves too,” Jules told him as he turned the Ute towards the rocky area that the Cartwrights called “the graveyard.” In the pre-dawn, with the headlights and spotlights picking out the twisted wrecks of cars and farm machinery abandoned over the eras of the Cartwrights farming the land and dragging out shadow into mystery, it was an eery place. Cameron was relieved when they managed to get the first corpse into

"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.

He had wished me a happy birthday. "Wait, seriously?" Xalia asked, her voice dropping into a puzzled tone. "Just 'Happy birthday, Khi'? No insults? No sarcasm? No demanding you go fetch him a coffee or something?" "Nope. Just that," I said, tracing the edge of my phone screen with my thumb. "Wow," Xalia breathed, and I could practically hear her shaking her head on the other end of the line. "Noah Graves is acting... normal. That is officially the scariest thing to happen all year. It’s like the twilight zone."

Now let's talk about my other books. Nightmare Land is not changing, but I am re-editing the first 18 chapters, which I will try to finish as soon as I can. Again, I will try to get the re-edits out with a new chapter, so just bear with me. Not only that, but I'm trying to add on a new book called Dark Tales of the Alive Undead. I have received no response about that either, but I'm waiting for an entire week to see if my editor will respond. I know they say to wait a whole month for new books, but this is also about my other books.

It was **Fragments**. I sat up and looked around. We were in a world made of "Partial Files." I saw half of a skyscraper from the 1990s. I saw a dog that was only a head and a tail. I saw a sunset that was frozen in a single, jagged frame. This was the "Graveyard of Ideas"—the place where the Syndicate and the Developers threw the things that didn't work. And standing in the middle of the graveyard was a man I never thought I’d see again.

The old man was too weak to travel. “Go,” they recited together and threw their cards. When the heroes looked back, the beggar had melted into the earth. Iron railings, rusted and twisted from time’s decay, surrounded the graveyard. A perpetually squeaking fence greeted them with ear piercing shrieks. The old tombs were crumbling and decayed, becoming little more than havens for giant spiders and other violent aberrations of nature. “Kill.” “Kill.” “Kill,” was repeated over and over.

he turned to look at Logan and ordered, “ You will be in charge of sending them to the graveyard of the unmasked and bury them there.” With that Elder Griffiths turned to head out of the morgue, he was having a headache with the number of emails, letters and calls that he had received after these corpses were dug out from the backyard of the council. Many were announcing and demanding that he needed to step off the chair of the head of the shifter council as he did not do his job well enough to allow such a thing to happen.