Regular Show Grave Sights Novels & Stories

"Been here long?" "Thirty years," he grunted, unlocking the gate with a key from his belt. The chain rattled as it swung open. "Seen all sorts come through—grievers, historians, even ghost hunters. You take your time; no rush." I smiled faintly, stepping through. "Appreciate it." The gate clanged shut behind me, and I was in, the cemetery unfolding like a forgotten storybook. The paths were gravel-strewn, crunching underfoot, lined with tombs and markers etched with names long faded. The air carried a musty scent, earth mixed with stone, and the quiet was profound, broken only by distant birdsong. Shay's tomb was deeper in, under that massive willow, its branches swaying gently like a natura

Jake, Chris, and Fatima accompanied me, their expressions grim. Chris carried the shovel, working quickly to uncover Andrew’s grave. The scrape of metal against soil was a harsh reminder of the grim task ahead. Fatima stood beside me, fidgeting nervously. “Are you sure about this, Priscilla? This feels...wrong.” I gave her a reassuring look, though my stomach churned with unease. “It’s not ideal, but it’s necessary. We have no other choice.” When the coffin was finally unearthed, Jake helped lift the lid. The stench hit us immediately—a nauseating mix of decay and old blood. I fought the urge to gag as I knelt beside the body.

* * We arrive at the graveyard, where the final act of farewell takes place, with the family standing together near the freshly dug grave, surrounded by close friends and mourners. After a brief speech, the coffin is lowered into the ground, and the gravity of the situation becomes too much to bear, and tears begin to fall down everyone's faces, including mine, even though I know I must remain strong for Reed. But the loss—the finality of death—is all too real in this moment. Leaning my head against Reed’s shoulder, who’s quietly sobbing, I tighten my grip on his, desperate to be his anchor in this storm of emotions, and it’s then that I see his grandmother.

Max spoke calmly and cooly in my ear as we approached the grave. Inside the grave lay a partially decayed black and silver spotted wolf. I scanned it closely with my eyes realizing its size alone should have told me right away. "This is the missing gamma..." I whispered covering my mouth with my hand trying to hold back vomit that started bubbling in my stomach.

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.

As I stared blankly at the gravestone, the elderly cemetery caretaker approached and struck up a conversation with me. "Sir, do you know Old Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan? I don't think I've ever seen you here before." It was such a simple question, yet it made my heart throb in pain all the same. After all, who am I when the place that should have belonged to Jessica's husband had already been engraved with Christian's name? Although I was standing under the sunlight, I felt like some lowly rat that ought to hide in the shadows. How could I stand before these gravestones when I didn't have a respectable identity that I could claim aloud?

looking helpless as he lost the only thing that made him a god: his land. "You look like you're staring at a funeral," Silas rumbled, standing by the window. His silhouette appeared massive against the grey sky. "I am," I whispered. My voice was a dry rasp, like a dead leaf when crushed. "I'm watching the burial of the Crescent Alpha. I just didn't expect the scene to look so... boring, and ordinary…" My cough broke the silence, a deep, racking tremor that made my ribs feel like they were being snapped back one by one. I pressed a tissue to my mouth that quickly soaked in a dark, thick crimson. I didn't panic; that was for people who still had a future.

It gave off a stench so vile it was beyond words. Chunks of dried concrete still clung to me. My exposed skin was blotched with livor mortis, and my face held just enough to hint at who I used to be. Jayden stood frozen, eyes locked on my corpse like someone had hit pause and left him stuck in that moment. "No way… No way…" Jayden muttered, his expression twisting into something unreadable, his voice barely a whisper. Hank gave his shoulder a gentle pat. "What's done is done, Jay. You've got to let it go."

Shovelfuls of dirt landed without drama, just the thump of earth against wood, again and again until the dark rectangle vanished. People started to shuffle off, staff first, then Sofia guiding Maya back to the house. Hilda stayed with Evelyn, the two of them weirdly solid together, not talking. I didn’t move. My feet might as well have been welded to the path. I tried to swallow, but the inside of my throat had gone dry. The grave was just a flat patch of dirt now, a scar that would vanish when the grass grew back.

Flashback Orangun Cemetery The skies were bright and clear as it was a sunny day. The graveyard was quiet as it is meant to be, but the presence of a man in Black hood changed it all. The peaceful ghosts cried out to him, as he walked past them. He looked neither left nor right, for he knew who he came for today. After a few minutes of walking around in the graveyard, he finally stopped at a particular grave. He turned and faced reading out the name on the block plaque "Stella Andrew" he smirked. Suddenly the ground shook and the earth dug itself six feet under. Then suddenly the coffin inside levitated upwards and landed beside the man.