Kill Grave Novels & Stories

Killian asked, stopping as well. “Is it ok for me to go there?” I gestured to the graves and he nodded his head. I then opened the gate and in a daze, I walked over to a grave. The name on it said, Lucas Shepard. Died at the age of thirty-two. Warrior of this pack. Killed in a battle. Something inside of me stirred, emotions slowly made its presence known as I fell to my knees. I gripped the headstone and started to cry. Lucas Shepard. Was my mate.

Kyle interjected, a smug look painted on his face. “Mr. Wright, it’s good to see you again,” Aldrich acknowledged Kyle’s presence. “The next time you see Mr. Grim Reaper, tell him my wife and I have already signed an exclusive contract with another afterlife provider,” Kyle added. “Premium package, unlimited clouds, no harp music. He can save himself the embarrassment and cross us off his list.”

answered calmly and steadily, “Of course. We’ll keep this a secret. The call ended. I sat down on my couch and wondered how Laura and Adam would tear each other apart. I understood Laura far too well. She was stupid and bad, so she would never figure out that I set this entire thing up, much less believe in what Adam had to say. What a pity that I could not watch the two of them rip into each other in rage. I took out the gramophone she gave to me from the closet, and my mind went on a trip down memory lane. I was finally able to avoid the fate of my entire family dying this round, and those two wastes of space were going to get what they deserved! All I needed to do next was wait for their

"Wolfsbane? Sharon, are you insane? You're not allowed to take your own life, you hear me?" His voice faded, growing fainter and fainter, until it disappeared entirely. Samson Holt, may we never see each other ever again.

** **The grave belongs to a woman named Sophia Calloway. **Date of death: three years ago.** **Next of kin listed: Martha Calloway.**

Then she walked up to me, viciously grinding her foot into my wound, using my blood as ink to press down her handprint. After finishing all this, she revealed a cruel smile. "Let him go," she ordered the security guards before saying to me, "John, you know? Your look of despair was just like your mother's before she died. On the day I went to court to declare you dead, I deliberately delivered the good news to your mother. Who would have thought that she'd be so frail? She passed away due to a heart attack." Nora did not have an ounce of pity on her face, only provocation.

With a swift movement, I peeled off the carbon fiber mask, taking a deep, ragged breath of the bunker's familiar, ozone-scented air. "Fifty million dollars in military-grade tech, completely stripped from Thorne's primary logistics line," Zero said, stepping out from the halo of his server monitors. A slow, rare smirk touched his lips, though his dark eyes remained intensely focused on me. "The underground boards are melting down, Vesper. Everyone is scrambling to figure out who just cut Malakai Thorne's throat in his own harbor."

After a night of emergency treatment, Sam finally pulled through in the ICU. However, the repeated strikes from the con artists had ruptured his spleen completely, forcing the doctors to remove it. The severe burns from the hot incense ash became badly infected, triggering acute kidney failure. For the rest of his life, he would depend on dialysis to survive. His left leg, which had been broken and left untreated for too long, suffered irreversible nerve damage, leaving him permanently disabled. His life was completely ruined.

And I did not make a mistake there because when I tried to look up the grim reaper I was waiting for was in front of me and holding a gleaming but burning sword. "Ralph Recto, son of Luisito Recto. As one of the angels of death. I am putting you to death today. Get lost." At the same time, Saint said that was the gesture of his sword splitting into Ralph's body that traced the shock in his eyes. Even I was shocked, unable to speak and fear completely invaded my whole being. My lips parted in pity when I slowly saw Ralph's body burning in front of me until it turned to ashes and vanished in the blink of an eye.

My hands were shaking, a deep, profound sorrow washing over my senses as the scent of old iron and decay filled the air. "We can't leave them like this," I whispered, my voice breaking. Kieran walked up beside me, a heavy wooden shovel he had found near an old shed held in his hand. His expression was grim, a quiet reverence in his eyes. "No, we can't. A pack honors its dead, Azriel. Even the ones without fur." ***