Iron Coffins Book Novels & Stories

“But the books… they aren’t paper.” Evangeline followed her gaze. The shelves were packed with archives. Not leather-bound tomes, but blocks of metal or bone, bound with copper wire and inscribed with runes that shimmered faintly beneath the silver dust. She took a step toward the nearest shelf, a heavy, cold block of iron, and realized the chilling truth. This silence wasn’t empty; it was full. “They aren’t books,” Evangeline breathed, the truth hitting her like a systemic shock. “They are the memories. The sealed spells. The frozen moments of the crimes they cataloged. Every single one is waiting to be opened.”

The third coffin was for an infant inscribed with a familiar word, but I couldn't place it, "A iníon." Maxine walked back in covering her mouth with her forearm. She was looking at the coffins as I began to open the one on the left. I barely needed the crowbar. The wood broke and rusted nails gave way. As I pushed the cover away, I saw a man's clothes, but a body very much in disorder. Bones broken, thrown about. It made no sense. I gently pushed through the ribs, pelvis when I felt something hard, round. "Jesus Christ, Max... It's the Iron Cylinder." I pulled it from beneath his pelvic bone, easily prying open the lock with my K-bar. I looked at her. She had tears in her eyes. She was looki

The room is immense, with no windows; the ceiling is high with several chandeliers hanging from it, some chairs, a fireplace, and a big bath full of blood, and in the middle of the room lays a red and black coffin with the family emblem closed with my father inside. Approaching the closed coffin, I pushed it open to check. As I push hard, making dust rise from the surroundings, I see the father’s resting body in perfect condition, just looking pale and thinner. I sat on the edge and talked to him, telling him what has happened for the last month. After an hour of talking to him, I decided it was time to take my leave, but I checked the book they gave me before I closed his casket. The small

"I don't have the strength to make it to the changing room. I can't even sit straight. I think there's a chair behind the casket. Could you ask someone to move it and bring it to me?" "No!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. She quickly forced it under control and added with a stiff smile, "I don't want to disturb my father's rest." She glanced at my soaked slacks, then at the coffin, and clenched her teeth. "You'll have to make do like this." A loud thud came from inside the coffin. The visitors went pale and stared. Kim grimaced. "It's a rat. This hall hasn't been used in ages. There's probably an infestation. One must have burrowed into the coffin…"

Several lightning cracked together, lighting the room for longer than a few seconds, and I took in the room. It wasn’t a room, but a graveyard with all the bodies preserved in what looked like a huge clear block of ice coffins. There were ten such visible blocks of ice and inside them were lifeless, pale bodies of gorgeous women dressed beautifully. Even though I knew the floor was ice, I was sweating so badly; I feared I might melt the entire iceberg floor. “People have a strange habit of dying.” I was on my feet within a second, facing the voice. Dendritic light crawled across the black walls, lighting the room dimly. It was a creepy, but exquisite phenomenon to witness. Creepy because it

The darkness was no hinderance to me, it hadn't been ever since I became a vampiress. The steps led to an open room. There were some tunnels akin to corridors that looked as though they contained individual cell blocks. But the open room held bodies, chained to the wall with thick black shackles. I had the feeling they contained magic too, keeping wrists and ankles permanently fixed in position. The vast majority of the bodies were headless. Theron hadn't been kidding. I walked forward, taking in the sight of the bodies, the clothes ripped and tattered, stained with the blood that had dripped from their necks, before crusting over and drying.

If you think the fall off the chair was my only nasty experience, you're very mistaken. I, Gabriella Johansson, for the first time in my life tasted coffee made with actual toilet water and it didn't end there. I got locked in the office from the outside after everyone had left and my instincts tell me it wasn't coincidental, thank God for the security guard who heard me screaming or else, I'd most likely be the laughing stock of the entire company by now. "Good morning Jack." I greet politely avoiding the menacing gaze of my evil team members, who were out to get me.

As she ran her hands on the coffin, she found a latch. "Wow. Looks like one can be locked here. I mean, a corpse can't possibly run away and what would they do if it did?" She mused to herself. Lifting the latch slowly, she held on to her breath as an upsetting odor swept from inside the box. Little by little, she lifted the lid but was shocked to her bones when after the smell had faded, she could see a figure. More like a rotten person who used to wear a coat laying in the coffin. From the skull with lost eyeballs in the dockets, to the withered hands. But something else caught her eyes asides from the hands.

But in the depths of her unconscious mind, a sense of foreboding lingered—a grim portent of the dangers that lay ahead. Hell, if she gets out and the person who did this is part of the underworld, she'll make this person unable to raise their head high. And if it were only a normal person, then she'd let her father and brothers deal with them. After all, her way is way more gruesome than that of her father and brothers. Meanwhile, in an office, everyone is looking at two people who are currently talking. "So, everything is settled, then. Let's do our work as soon as possible. Meeting adjourned."

she added, her tone leaving no room for doubt. As Sherly handed over the folder containing the detailed crime evidence, a profound sense of surprise washed over Hideous, Kyle, and Keisley. They know that their youngest is the strongest among them since what she is holding is all information. However, even though they had witnessed it many times, it wasn't as big as the information in their hands right now. Their astonishment was visible and written plainly across their faces as they beheld the meticulous documentation compiled by their youngest sibling.