Iron Coffins Book Novels & Stories

He pushed the door open and stepped inside and Caitlin looked at either sides of her before also stepping inside. The moment she was in, the lights turned on and she paused to look around the place. There are papers everywhere, mostly of torn pages and drawings, ancient ones, of what had happened, and what seems like is about to happen from what she had read from the sacred book. “Welcome to my uhm…abode. Well, I would not want to call it that because of…”

Waltz asked softly. “Resentful spirits!” Susan exclaimed. Waltz’s grip around Alex’s hand tightened even further. Darven Mikail was also nearby. “What do you mean? Could there be coffins or corpses under the shipboard?” “Not under the shipboard. They’re under the boat!” Susan said softly. Darven shuddered, and his eyes widened. “Does this mean that the movement of this coffin boat is the doing of those things?” he asked. Susan nodded.

Apart from the gifts I had given her in the past, I found nothing that belonged to me. When she was taken away by the coroners, the only thing she had on was a thin nightgown. There was no way she had been carrying anything else on her. The same ominous question came back to me—Was it truly her in the first place? All the recent deaths were too much for me to handle. I propped my hands against Sybille’s desk and felt a metallic scent fill my mouth before throwing up a mouthful of blood. My blood splattered against the cover of a book. It was a copy of “The Book of the Dead” I had lent her.

When we returned to the cemetery, it felt as if an invisible hand had closed around my heart. I was only a spirit, yet I still felt like I was suffocating, my skin breaking into a cold sweat as my spirit began to flicker. Being buried alive had to be the absolute worst form of torture. The plot was a total disaster area, my casket having been violently pried open. The inside was covered in human waste, but even that couldn't hide the countless scratches covering the wooden walls.

Some were stained with blood. Others had broken chains wrapped around them. Adrian stared in disbelief. "What are these?" "They are the endings." "The endings?" "Every possibility." The stranger picked up one thin volume. He opened it. Inside, Adrian saw himself sacrificing his own life to seal the Ninth Cipher forever. The book instantly crumbled into silver dust. Another volume. Adrian abandoned the Archive. Darkness swallowed history. That book also dissolved. Another. Thomas returned. The First Keeper disappeared. Again... Dust.

Edwin was almost paralyzed with awe. “Dear god,” Tim gasped. “Is she alive?” “Aye,” Agatha said as she pushed her way past the stunned men. “We must hurry. Now that the coffin has been exposed, the air inside shall dissipate quickly.” “Shit!” both men said simultaneously. Edwin grabbed the axe and broke away enough of the macadam and soil to allow Agatha easy access to the secured closures on the coffin. “It’s all glass,” Tim observed with curiosity. “How did it hold up under the pressure?”

I say, my eyes locked on the coffin. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I shake my head. “Look,” I whisper, pointing. The coffin is moving. It’s subtle at first, just a slight vibration, but then the lid starts to shake violently. And then it bursts open. The force knocks several Nardoos backward, their bodies slamming into the ground like ragdolls. Smoke pours out of the coffin, thick and black, coiling into the air like it’s alive. And then he emerges.

The first of the three keys. But the library was vast, and the sun was falling fast. “Here,” Elias said suddenly. His lantern revealed a desk half-buried under rubble. On it sat a cluster of books spared from collapse. My pulse quickened. I rushed forward, brushing dust aside. Most were ledgers—trade records, shipment logs, accounts of star-iron mining. But one book was different. Smaller, bound in faded blue leather, edges worn soft by use. A delicate clasp, broken long ago, hung loose across the cover.

The Blood Sanctum was the ancestral home of the vampire clan. In its gloomy great hall, two massive coffins were positioned. These two coffins were not made of wood. Instead, they were forged from meteorites from beyond the stars, incredibly hard and durable. Moreover, the outer layer was reinforced, with a cage made of tempered steel imprisoning the coffins within. Suddenly, one of the coffins trembled slightly. The coffin lid, weighing tens of thousands of pounds, began to shift with creaking sounds.

Beyond was a chamber that stole my breath. It was enormous, carved entirely from black crystal that reflected the candlelight in a thousand directions. The ceiling soared impossibly high, lost in shadows. And scattered throughout the chamber were coffins. Dozens of them. Some simple wooden boxes, others elaborate crystal or stone creations. All closed. All silent. "The royal crypts," Cassius said quietly. "Every vampire of noble blood who has died or chosen the long sleep rests here." He led me through the forest of coffins to one at the very center of the chamber. This one was different from the others. Made entirely of clear crystal, it sat on a raised platform surrounded by more of those