Iron Coffins Book Novels & Stories

Because sometimes, the truth didn’t just reveal itself—it shattered you first. And this time, he wouldn’t let her look away. “Let me enlighten you on what could have happened.” He heaved a sigh—heavy, yet sharp. The air around her seemed to freeze at the condescension in his tone. “They would have taken their time… carving his organs out,” he drawled. “Slowly. Patiently. Ensuring—” he paused, “—before auctioning them at elevated prices… eventually selling them to the highest bidders.”

Chapter 42: The Iron Ledger The spring air was changing into summer. It was getting really hot in the Brooklyn harbor.. Inside the studio the temperature was just right to keep the old documents safe. These documents were spread out on an oak table. Elena was standing over the delivery from the archival team. It was an old book with an iron cover. Marcus had found it in a storage room near the Atlantic Dock.

Damien's POV The metal gates of GrundgeVille Penitentiary slammed shut behind me with a sound that echoed straight into my bones. Three years. Thirty-six months of concrete walls, steel bars, and the kind of silence that eats a man alive. I stood on the cracked sidewalk under the blazing afternoon sun, duffel bag slung over one shoulder, the cheap black hoodie and jeans they’d issued me already sticking to my skin from the heat.

They began to move backwards, and I looked at them, my chest heaving hard. ‘We made it.’ Isis whispered in disbelief. “What did I say?” I asked her. She began to list the out, ‘Death, sickness, accident…’ “Coffin.” I interrupted, breathy. “The man who made the coffin, didn't want it because he didn't want to die. The man who wanted the coffin didn’t use it for himself, but for someone else, and the man who used the coffin didn’t see it because he was dead.” I said, still feeling the adrenaline in my body, coursing through me heavily.

She could see their breath rising in pale clouds, the way the mound of dirt grew steadily beside the widening wound in the ground. When the first hollow crack of metal on wood rang out, it cut through her like a gunshot. She gripped the trunk beside her, nails biting into the bark. One of the men knelt, brushing away the soil with slow, reverent strokes. The coffin’s surface was damp and blackened, the brass fittings dulled to a greenish corrosion. She didn’t have to be closer to hear the groan of wood giving way. The air seemed to thicken as the lid creaked open.

“They were out too far…for a reason. “Rodin says. Slowly, Rodin lifts his fingertips from the puddle. The blood drips back into the pool. The blood is thick almost like sludge and smells like rotten meat when it's cooked. Rodin flings the blood on the teal grass which cleans the shine on his armor. Rodin stands and he starts to walk to the tent with the flag. Varick looks over the pile. On his side is a satchel, he reaches in this compartment to pull out a book. The book’s title: “Book of The Blight.” Carefully, he sets his wolf helm down on a clean spot among the forest. The plate head sparks with pink electricity, causing the headpiece to slightly hover along with the grassy blade tips. Va

I looked at Freya with wide eyes and then looked at the book again. I can’t remember any of us ever sitting here … If we did … I didn’t want to stick my hand into the compartment. Knowing the old ancient, he probably boobytrapped the damn thing! Besides, I had my hands full with Freya … I rolled my eyes realizing I was making excuses and there wasn’t even anybody around to hear them! Softly laying Freya down in my coffin, I decided to pull out the book. I was right. It was a very ancient book and I shivered as I ran my fingers over the first page, realizing it was actually made out of skin! All of this suddenly made so much sense! Of course, the ancient would have a hidden horror book in his

"I'm a patient who requires in-patient medical treatment. Please leave me alone!" The officer nodded. He opened his laptop and played a video for Zane to watch. It was footage of Zane secretly hiding Bree in the basement! "How dare you falsely accuse me? What solid proof do you have that I was the one who hid her?" Zane's eyes bugged out of their sockets as he defended himself unrelentingly. "The garbage can in the basement contains your bodily fluids, which match the substance found on Bree Polene's body!" the officer replied.

Owls fluttered across branches, squirrels scurried along the moss-ridden ground, and there in the distance, three bright white fireflies hung in the air above two glowing amber friends. I froze. White neon firefly? I looked back to where I had seen them only to see nothing. ‘I saw it too.’ Cole said, his tone laced with something akin to excitement. ‘You remember what Nicolai said, we kill on sight.’ Damien reminded us. ‘Fuck that. I’m going after it. Take Nicolai in, I’ll watch our rear.’ Cole said determinately as he slunk away into the trees. “Would you mind accompanying me?” Nicolai said at my right, pulling me out of my half-shocked state.

After that, he took his cell phone back from Zayne’s hand before he turned around and left. Zayne wiped a handful of cold sweat from his forehead. After that, he immediately took out his satellite phone and called Porter, who was far away in Eastcliff. At this time, Porter was in the Porter family’s old family mansion, and he was looking at the dozens of cheap coffins that were piled up in the courtyard with great satisfaction. Each of these coffins was made out of thin and rotten broken wooden boards that had been put together. Although the coffin’s entire body was already painted with extremely poor-quality red paint, seams and gaps on the coffin board, which could fit a dollar coin, could