Iron Coffins Book Novels & Stories

"Heriberto is draining his own people to feed the Siphon. David said he's building a 'throne of bones' in the main cavern using the calcified remains of the people he drains. He's keeping the Codex in the lower mines, guarded by the golems, because the rock there is lead-heavy and blocks the radiation." I looked at the map. It made sense. Strategically, it was the only play Heriberto had if he wanted to maintain stability. "It's a heist," Marcus said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. "We go in. We grab the book. We get out before god realizes his diary is missing." "Who is 'we'?" Silas asked. "The Pack can't get close to the rot without dying." "Me," I said, standing up. "A

I was late—dinner had started, and I’d planned it that way, hoping to slip in unnoticed. The oak doors swung open, a servant nodding as I strode past, my tailored suit feeling like armor. I didn’t return the greeting, my mood too dark, my mind still tangled with Lila’s scent, her screams. The dining room’s chandelier cast a warm glow, but the air was thick with tension.

"He's hiding something from me. Or the world is hiding it from him." I began to move through the rows of the last section, where the shelves were made of actual wood, smelling of cedar and rot. This was the dead Row, where books too fragile for digital scanning were kept. I spent hours there, my fingers trailing over spines that crumbled at the touch. I checked liturgy of the Fire, Genealogy of the Unmarked, and the Shadow Rites to see if I would see something concerning what I was. But there was nothing but dry, academic theories.

And proved themselves wrong. I slipped into the restricted section. Dust and iron. Blood dried so long it had become architecture. My hand skimmed spines untouched for centuries. The Binding of the Abyss. The Vessel's Sacrifice. The Law of the Shadow-Bride. I pulled the last one free. Leather-bound. Claw-marked cover. I opened it - pages yellow, brittle, the smell of a mouth sealed for decades. "Looking to stay in control, or lose it entirely?" I didn't flinch. Didn't stop reading.

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,

Adrian flipped through them and started with one, "Pablo Garcia. Drug trafficking and robbery." Adrian snapped his fingers, and Clint's men and Riley's security team brought coffins before them. They took turns getting the coffins in, but after half an hour, all four were settled before the kidnappers. Three coffins were made of glass, but one was a regular wooden coffin. "What is that?" Pablo, the first man, asked. "Your resting place until you speak," Adrian said. Pablo laughed. He snorted as he asked, "So you are going to scare me with a glass coffin? Haha!"

The first thing I got was what looked like a normal picture album. Expect, it had pictures of interrogations. However, I had a feeling every single person in this book was dead. There was a before and after picture. Hundreds were lined with dried blood along the edges. Dad didn’t even wash his hands before he put this together. Dirt covered the corners, an obvious worm line ran across the front and it smelled like death. Flipping to the back, I was surprised to see the dead men that dad left on our doorstep. That meant all these were recent.

It was not easy to handle it when the situation became like this now. Warren stared at Thomas, and he coldly said, “Are you purposely humiliating me today?” Thomas chuckled. “I just came to give a present. How did I humiliate you? “Why? Do you find my gift too light?” Thomas swung his hand. “Don't be anxious. After you see the things inside, you won’t find the present light.” Someone immediately came over and lifted the lid of the eight coffins. In every coffin, there was a muscular man inside. Their hands and legs were tied, and their mouths were sealed by black tapes.

He also forced me to get on my knees in repentance every year during the week of Mom's death anniversary. It just happened to be the first day of that very week when the drug dealers broke into the cemetery. Zack's phone suddenly rang at that moment. "Zack! Come to the police station as fast as you can!" … It was already night time by the time Zack rushed to the police station. "Another case?" he asked, turning to look at Officer Wright, captain of the homicide unit. "Take a look yourself," Officer Wright replied with a sombre look. Zack opened up the black plastic bag placed on the autopsy table. The smell of blood mixed with decay hit him like a wave, making him frown involuntarily.

Then pointed to the line at the bottom. Premium preservation coffin, handcrafted blackwood interior, three million. “Fine.” Carol reluctantly transferred the money. I handed her a specially made coffin. The bottom contained a hidden hollow compartment. Once they got home, Blake would be able to slip through the false panel and escape without anyone noticing. Soon, Blake was placed inside the coffin, and everything was finally ready. But just as they were about to carry it away, Richard suddenly became suspicious of the coffin. He knocked on it several times, inside and out, making my heart climb straight into my throat.