Kill Grave Novels & Stories

She sat in her car and opened the headline which didn't take her by surprise because she knew it had to happen. Iris Grave is Dead! Yes, Mrs Grave. The radiance of Mr Grave is no longer breathing. She died in a car accident, her body was found burned to ashes. Her death was an unpredictable turn of events and deeply grieved news for her loved ones. Condolence to her family and loved ones to lose such a gem. This might have come as an utter shock but what's more dazing was Mr Grave's statement. 'We divorced six months ago.' What could be the reason for the rising couple to split up?

"Yes boss." Killian cast a final, lingering glance at his mother’s gravestone before striding out of the graveyard. He drove to the torture chamber, the drive taking more than half an hour. Upon arrival, he stepped out of the car, and his men, standing by the entrance, bowed their heads in respect as he approached.

I don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.

He was dead. I killed him.

Most of the victims of the mysterious virus were productive-age Alphas, including the most recent ones. Before approaching, I searched for something to use for digging. Luckily, luck was on my side once again. I found a shovel lying near an old shack, likely used during a recent burial. I took the shovel and walked towards the grave with Sabrina's name. She was the Omega servant at Cassian's palace who died from the virus.

“No. That’s not what this is.” I shoved him away and scooted to the far edge of the bed, putting distance between us. “Then what is it? Do you know what I just dreamed about?” My voice cracked as tears welled in my eyes. “Your funeral, Killian. The mausoleum was in pieces.” I didn’t say that I felt like every person he’d ever killed had gathered around me as I looked into his coffin. I didn’t mention the girl who looked like a mixture of the two of us I’d seen kneeling in front of the stone.

Broken. He turned when he heard Ava approach, his eyes wild with fury and something worse—fear. “You shouldn’t be here,” he barked. “Go back!” Ava stepped forward anyway. “Tell me what you found.” He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked back at the tomb’s entrance like it held answers he didn’t want to speak aloud. “The grave wasn’t empty,” he muttered. Ava's breath caught. “What does that mean?” Kain moved aside. With a reluctant nod, he led her inside. The walls were lined with stone coffins, some untouched, others broken open. One at the far end had been freshly disturbed. The air smelled of damp soil and rot.

"You said 'past life'? Are you reborn too?" "Yes. I've been reborn." Mikhail turned to face me, his eyes unwavering. "In the past life, Sophia killed herself not long after our marriage. The world believed I had abused her. But the truth is, she found my room filled with your photos and ended her life out of shame and rage. "I've loved you across two lifetimes, Emma. This time, I won't let the chance slip away." Outside the window, snow fell in soft sheets, blanketing Droskav in a white blanket.

“Cover more ground. Eyes open.” Dee raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Careful.” Aire disappeared into the crowd, moving like she’d learned to before her death—fluid, unseen, yet fully aware. Every familiar corner, every alleyway, whispered secrets of who had risen and who had fallen while she was gone. And Trevon? He was out there, lurking, underestimating the girl he tried to kill.

°° KLEIN °° It was her. Gracefully alighting from the black escalade. “A.. Azalea.’’ The word rolls off my lips in a shaky whisper, and my legs acts on their own, pushing me up from my seat. In the last four years… despite how hard I tried to convince myself she was alive, somewhere at the back of my mind still believed she was dead. That I'd lost her forever, and was now on the journey of losing my own self.