Is Diggy Graves White Or Black Novels & Stories

Alfred had gone and bought advertising space on the big screens in malls across the globe. He did all that just to celebrate the birthday of his 'late' daughter. The twisted part was that the Hawkins family had chosen the same day of all days to 'bury' me. There was Alfred, caught on camera, weeping uncontrollably over my coffin. Word on the street was that ever since Ruby and I were gone, he had not even had a drop to drink. The only thing keeping him alive was the nutritional shots John gave him, whether he liked it or not.

He swallowed. “They chose you,” he said quietly. Not bitter. Just tired. So tired. He dug again. Like he had for the middle child. Bare hands tearing into the earth. Dirt under his nails. Blood mixing with soil. Two small graves now. Side by side. Too close together. No parent should ever dig graves this small. He laid the youngest down gently. Covered them slowly. Each handful heavier than the last. When it was done, he stayed there kneeling. Long after.

It left a dull, lingering ache somewhere in me that I couldn't place and I could feel the part of me that was alive grow dimmer as we approached their headstones. The smell of freshly dug soil still lingered in the air. So overwhelming and overpowering that it nearly overrode the numerous fragrances of the fresh flowers on each grave. Every headstone in the cemetery had one or two bouquets on it. Each is carved in a unique colour. Mostly shades of Grey, black and white with inscriptions on them. The flowerbeds and flowers on each grave served as the only source for bursts of colour, which I found somewhat peaceful. I could spot a few family crypts from afar and a small chapel that stood prou

New message. A photo of our cemetery, time-stamped five minutes ago. Fresh dirt disturbed. A shovel in frame. Under it, three words. DIG HIM UP.

Marshall, that heartless piece of trash… I was still alive, and he couldn't wait to cheat, let his people and his mistress abuse my family, and even desecrate the dead! I bit down hard on my lip until I tasted blood, barely holding back the rage boiling inside me. I pulled out my phone and was about to call 911 when Digby snatched it away and smashed it on the ground. "Calling the cops?" he sneered. "It's pointless! Mr. Gray will make the matter disappear." He pointed to a large pit nearby, which had been dug out for an artificial lake on the golf course. The bottom was filled with broken rocks and rusted steel bars sticking out at odd angles.

“ I apologize for what I'm about to do next. I can't live with it anymore, Caspian and I also can't wait till Black's anniversary. I hope you forgive me for laying your brother to rest on the day I'm supposed to be mourning you.” I dropped the flowers and stood for a while. It was time to let go. It was time to lay Black to rest. I have left him to wander in the wilderness for so many years, it was time to make the final journey home. “ You may begin.” The men got to work. They digged up the shallow unmarked grave. They dug deep into the ground. The full moon shone brightly and illuminated the yard. The white colored coffin glistened under the moonlight. I sat beside his body and replayed th

The street lamps began to crumble just like they had done the day of the accident, the earth crumbling as the ground quaked. “Seems you could use a little help, little vamparina.” A masculine voice resonated in the air. Vamparina? There he stood, along with my parents, his eyes red, his black dreadlocks running down along his face, his muscles big, merging perfectly with his physique, his perfectly chiseled jawline with a black cloak on. “Blood!” They groaned. “Back to the underworld.” He said as he raised his hands. The air stood still, flame engulfing the creatures in a minute. Groans filled the air as they began to disintegrate into soot, flowing along with the wind.

Right, it was the power of divinity that rendered the resentful Chi into nothingness. The divinity in her glabella emitted a faint green glow that enveloped both of them. “Good baby, you’ve saved your daddy’s life!” Alex could not help but kiss the little one on the cheek. Until then did he have the mood to look closely at this white bone palace—the Gods’ Tomb. At a glance, it was even a more terrifying sight. There was really a tomb inside. There were neatly arranged graves with different sizes everywhere. Some had epitaphs on them; some did not have epitaphs.

Theo and Adrian followed behind him, both also dressed in black. "I know you guys never liked plain white flowers, so I brought a bunch of colors," Theo said softly. His eyes welled up as he looked at the three young, smiling faces on the gravestones. "I figured this is more your style." Adrian, pushing his wheelchair, gently placed the bouquets down beside each grave. His eyes were filled with grief. Gregory knelt in front of one of the graves and wiped the rain off the photo. Then, he pulled out a bottle of white wine, pouring a drink for each of them.

"The budget for the New York expansion needs your signature." "Let them wait," Kael rasped. He turned back to the grave. His eyes narrowed. Something was wrong. Usually, the grave was bare save for the withered remains of the white roses Kael left every week. But today, a splash of darkness lay against the gray marble. He stepped closer, his boots sinking into the saturated earth. A bouquet of lilies sat at the base of the stone. They weren't white. They were black—deep, obsidian petals that looked like they had been dipped in ink.