Novel & Cerita It's Been So Long By The Living Tombstone

We walked past what must have been fifty tombstones before we found the one we were looking for. I released Tammy's hand and crunched down to its level, to read the inscriptions on it. The words were; Emily Rashford, 1862-2001. That was a hundred years plus. She lived longer than most humans did. I glanced at Tammy whose eyes were solely focused on me. I stood up and pulled her close to me, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"I'm fine. It's just that there are too many Tomb Crawlers. It's a little troublesome to clean it all up. How did they appear here?" We want to know too. Tristan was a little depressed. He almost caused a disaster. "Bettany whispered, ""Those worms don't like sunshine, so the body inside has been dead for at least five days.""" "Hearing Bettany's words, Mango and Tristan were not surprised." "But if she had been dead for more than five days, how could she still look that alive?" Mango was a little confused. "Bettany looked at Mango and explained, ""This is what the Tomb Crawlers are great at. They can make a dead person appear alive. Only when they have bred enough and kill themselves by exp

So many lives cut short, and though there are no dates on the stones, I can’t help but imagine that none of these souls lived to see old age. My gaze is drawn to a grave nestled beneath a tree in the center of the yard. Even before I read the name, I know what it will say. The Shadows logo is on the right, and Zombie's on the left. Amber Shortly among us Forever with us I sink to my knees before the stone. She is the reason I am here. Would I even be who I am today without her? "Why didn’t they tell me who I really am?" I whisper to the stone. "Why did they keep the truth a secret from me?"

The blonde raised an eyebrow though she did not question her any more as she turned back to the direction that they were going. The only source of light at that area was coming from the lampposts that seemed a bit dim due to its oldness and from candles next to some tombstones. Without those, it would have been completely dark which would have definitely made everything scarier than how it already was. Dakota was not sure whether it was even a good thing that they were the only people there or not. “Here.” They stood in front the tombstone of the blonde’s late mother. “It’s her 20th death anniversary today.”

It was overgrown with weeds, the headstone plain and shabby—not even a proper photograph. I stood in the rain, staring quietly at that stone marker. What flashed through my mind were the words from his deathbed in the past life—"Don't bury me next to Elena." All the entanglements of two lifetimes—love, hate, obsession—had finally turned to dust. I took out a single white daisy and placed it gently in front of the moss-covered headstone. "Vincent, the grudges and debts of two lifetimes—they end here." I looked at the grave, my voice clear in the cool autumn rain.

The gravestone in Millbrook had three new lines beneath the wrong name. The man who had sat at a restaurant table and said there is no other way in a room with a window in Westchester, looking at something she could not see and could not know, was gone from everything except the record that would hold his name for as long as records lasted. She looked at Marcus at the gravestone. At the three lines he had carved. At Rosa's hand on the stone. She thought about Carmen. About the laugh about the shoe. About good, this is good. About Sofia saying I'll tell her everyone came home. She looked at her children.

The truth that your loved ones could cease to exist at any moment? “We’re here”. I heard him say. And it was only then that I blinked several times to clear my vision. And my heart clenched excruciatingly as my gaze settled on the tombstone in front of me. The words ‘Hope Grant. 3rd Feb, 2023 – 3rd Feb, 2023. Forever loved’ were engraved.

A crow cawed somewhere overhead, sharp and mocking, while a smaller bird made the oddest squeaky chirps like it was laughing at us for being stupid enough to keep going. The path stretched longer than it looked, headstones lining either side, crooked and aged, some cracked down the middle. Names were half-faded, eaten away by moss. Klaus walked close behind me, his jacket brushing my arm now and then, as if being even an inch away from me might mean something would swallow him whole. At the end of the path, a tomb loomed into view. Klaus lowered his voice, almost reverent. “I guess… that’s the tomb the man spoke about, right?”

Later on, not so long after, Rose Hillston finally buried four feet beneath in the grave where on the tombstone written her name. “No crying. Let your mother live her happiest afterlife.” a trembling voice that obviously is perfectly held in by the man who said that to the other man, who stands closest to the tomb. Two taps felt on the kneeling man’s shoulder. Radiating what that a true love means to let go, or so the people say.

Asher murmurs. Eric turns around and changes his direction on the other side. "And that…" He walks to one of the tombs behind Asher. "My enemies tomb." He smiles. Asher runs his eyes on the tomb's name one by one. Most of them are quite famous thugs and some of them are the government's special unit force from many countries. Despite that, there's one tomb at the end of the hall at the centre of both sides. Eric went to the tomb and caressed the tomb-like he was caressing someone.