Necklace Urns For Human Ashes Novels & Stories

The woman behind the counter gave Cassie a gentle smile, as though she already knew who she was. “Take your time,” she said kindly. The store was small and quiet, filled with urns of all shapes and materials—ceramic, marble, brass. Some were modern and sleek. Others looked like something from another century. Cassie ran her fingers along a silver one with soft etchings of leaves. “Mom always liked nature,” she murmured. Emily stepped beside her. “She’d love that one.” Cassie nodded, and something tightened in her chest. The laughter from earlier dissolved, replaced by a hollow ache. She stared at the urn, the reality finally, fully sinking in.

“Within those pots are urns and inside those urns are ashes of the people you killed.” He smiled proudly. “That’s pretty accurate.” “But those urns…they’re smaller than they fit inside those pots. How…” He nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging her question as valid. “Well, you have to understand that normally, dead bodies are burned while it is inside a casket. Since human bodies are made of 75 percent water, the cremated remains that people get after are bone fragments and the casket ash. And I don’t put my dead bodies inside a casket, Una.”

Stella goes quiet, then lays down, a little white circle on the sand, her eyes closed, her tail tucked over her nose. Around her, where there once were bodies of our fallen enemies, there are now small piles of golden ash, still faintly glowing with the starlight energy she called down. Reverently, Layla steps forth and gathers one of the piles in her hand. Arnold appears at her side with a simple ceramic urn, which she gently pours the ashes into. They repeat this process until all the ash piles are gone, and we have a row of little ceramic jars on the sand where the bodies used to lay.

Brynn shrieked, her face twisted with malicious glee. The ashes were cruelly scattered again, floating in the air before settling humbly back onto the ground. It was like all my strength had been sucked out. I couldn't hold myself up anymore and collapsed onto the floor. I looked at the scattered ashes, at Brynn’s face, contorted with jealousy, and at Ryker’s shocked, confused expression. Suddenly, I laughed. A bitter, hopeless laugh. "An urn…" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "In the Howling Moon Pack, a simple stone urn costs three hundred silver wolf coins."

Inside, the walls were adorned with hundreds of small, protected niches, each containing memorials to pack members who had passed before us. Some contained ceremonial urns, others personal belongings, all sacred to the memory of those gone. I led Aurora to the newest niche, placed in a prominent position as befitted the son of the Alpha Heir. The small space contained two intricately carved silver protection amulets with ancient pack runes – identical to those Grace Winters had crafted months ago. Beside them rested a smooth, polished moonstone box.

He was looking if Ophelia is actually telling the truth and not just being petty to insult Wren but he was left stunned. When the video ended, Alexander's voice was low but firm. “This necklace…it’s from the Velouré Noire collection. Only three pieces were made in the world.” His gaze flicked briefly toward Wren, whose face had turned ghostly pale. “Each piece is tracked and registered. It’s not something you can just buy at a boutique or casually pass on like it’s costume jewelry.” Hannah blinked. “Wait…how do you know that?” she asked curiously.

When Hansen saw it, he exclaimed, "That's a Dead Man's Piece!" "Yes!" Landry smiled wryly. "This Dead Man's Piece allows me to avoid ascension!" Hansen lamented, "This type of pendant is only found in mass graves. They are sinister objects that can attract countless spirits of the dead!" Landry said, "Yes! I found this pendant in a mass grave outside of Everpeace City!"

It was a large garbage disposal station. My body had been cremated and turned into a pile of ashes. It was then put into a small pottery jar I had bought earlier. They thought I was unlucky and refused to keep my ashes at the villa. After they discussed it, they decided to throw my remains into the garbage disposal station. The garbage was piled up like a mountain at the disposal station. The stench was overwhelming and unbearable, and it was not easy to find my ashes. No one knew what Nicole was thinking, but she started looking.

“That’s why we drink it. It’s the only way to survive.” Then came the box. Velvet. Small. Black. She set it gently between us, like a priest offering a relic. “I wanted you to have something from my family,” she said softly. “An heirloom. Passed through generations. My mother wore it during her first pregnancy, and my grandmother before her.” I opened it slowly. The necklace was beautiful. Too beautiful. Silver strands woven into delicate chains, six obsidian stones shaped like droplets, each etched with runes. Eastern. Ancient.

I put the flowers down on my dresser, sat down and opened the small package. Inside was a small velvet box. I flipped it open. It was a necklace. Delicate gold, with a tiny glass vial at its centre — sealed, containing something dark red. I pulled out the card tucked beneath it and unfolded it with shaking hands. "From your mother, I'm sorry for your loss. This too shall pass. — Z" The world stopped. My mother's blood? He had collected it. Preserved it. Put it in a necklace like some kind of... sick memorial.