Iron Coffins Book Novels & Stories

A note with only a single word written, “welcome.” But when she let go of my hand and walked slowly to the coffin, her figure swaying with every movement as if she were about to fall, I’d known who lay within. I just hadn’t wanted to believe it. “Alpha,” a guard pushed open the door of the room where we kept the coffins of deceased pack members before their burials could be conducted. He took a step back at the look on my face, then drew in deep breath and walked in anyway. “What is it?”

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.”

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.

If the situation gets worse, the person will die. Then suddenly, after picking the Biennial flower, Oralie's gaze was locked on a coffin lying in the corner. The coffin lay dormant there. Moss had grown to a full covering, covering the original beauty of the splendor. The wood is probably rotted away because it has been left for too long. Even if this is the best wood, it can not avoid the cruel hand of time. Oralie carefully approached, and around the coffin suddenly appeared pure white letters. They leaped from the ground, stabbing toward her as if they were sharp darts themselves.

Aris gave one final, violent shudder, his eyes rolling back into his head as his body went completely limp, collapsing face-down onto the cold flagstones. I reached down, pulling my silver needle from his flesh, wiping it clean on his linen collar. I turned to the desk, picked up the iron lockbox, and tossed it straight into the roaring stone incinerator in the corner of the vault. The ancient parchment ledgers caught fire instantly, curling into black, ash-like wings. I slid the heavy iron bolt back and stepped out into the dark corridor, closing the door behind me. As I turned to head back toward the High Hall, a sudden, ice-cold wind whistled through the subterranean stone passage.

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.

“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.