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Riddle Coffin Novels & Stories
Here are 82 novels related to riddle coffin for you to read online. Generally, riddle coffin or similar novel stories can be found in various book genres such as Werewolf, Paranormal and Fantasy. Start your reading from The Alpha's Regret: Rising From The Ash at GoodNovel!
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The Alpha's Regret: Rising From The Ash
The nails screeched.
The lid popped open.
I took a deep breath. I braced myself for the smell of decay.
I lifted the lid and threw it back.
I looked inside.
The scream died in my throat.
There was no skeleton. There were no bones. There was no dust.
The coffin was filled with bricks.
Red construction bricks. They were stacked neatly in rows to simulate the weight of a body.
I stared at them. My mind tried to reject what my eyes were seeing.
"It is empty," Kael whispered.
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Auctioned To The Rogue King
They began to move backwards, and I looked at them, my chest heaving hard.
‘We made it.’ Isis whispered in disbelief.
“What did I say?” I asked her.
She began to list the out, ‘Death, sickness, accident…’
“Coffin.” I interrupted, breathy. “The man who made the coffin, didn't want it because he didn't want to die. The man who wanted the coffin didn’t use it for himself, but for someone else, and the man who used the coffin didn’t see it because he was dead.” I said, still feeling the adrenaline in my body, coursing through me heavily.
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Claimed by the Seven Alphas
Muscle spasm.
But he knew what he was holding.
Nothing.
---
【The Stone Coffin and the Escape】
He did not die. But he was quieter than death.
The coffin was obsidian, cut from the same stone as the Void Gate. The inner walls were rough, every inch carved with sealing runes. Marcus's handwriting. He had used the script she taught him to carve the coffin of the one who had imprisoned her.
There was no light inside the obsidian coffin. Darkness had color, but inside the coffin, there was not even black. Eyes open or closed, what he saw was exactly the same.
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Cursed with a Ghost of Death
Again.
It... it had carvings on it. They were like symbols or something she couldn't just decipher. It looked really old. Like an ancient black coffin. The strange thing about this coffin was it held such magnetic and powerful aura that anyone could not just miss. And the colour... it was just like that miasma hovering behind her earlier.
Speaking of the miasma, where was it now? Had it... Was this what it wanted her to reach?
The aura coming from the coffin brought her back from her thoughts. It was... it was calling out to her? She could hear faint sounds of mumbled words. No, this can't be words. It sounds like an ancient language or so she thought.
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Demon’s Little Bride
The worst part of it was that there is a coffin in the room.
She suddenly felt terrified seeing it, there were candles everywhere and that was the only form of light, everything else was black. The bed, coffin, and types of furniture, they were all black.
“Hmm, say something.” He said as she kept staring at the room.
“Please.” He added and she looked at the coffin.
“Why is there a coffin here?” She asked staring at it and he sighed.
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Nathaniel
Could they be trusted?
I had to find out. I slowly pushed the top of the coffin open. When I saw no light coming through, I pushed it open a little bit more. I peeked through the slit and found I was in some type of room, and it was dark inside. I pushed the coffin open and climbed out. I waited for my eyes to adjust and realized I was in a funeral home. How fitting.
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Urban Vampire
"I'm going to get us packed."
When I was alone, I thought about Julie. She still hadn't risen yet, and it was full dark. They had put her coffin in my bedroom. From all outward appearances, it was a coffin, but I hated to use the term 'coffin.' Vampires had constructed coffins for the sole purpose of keeping themselves safe. No one was ever to be buried in such a thing. It was completely impenetrable by light of any kind because a belt of some type slipped into place to seal it. It could be operated from either the outside or the inside, and inside was a lock so a human couldn't accidentally open it, and anyone with superhuman strength could beat his or her way out of it if necessary.
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Beloved Alpha King
Feeling the rough texture, he looked at it in surprise.
The edges were badly broken and the top layer of black lacquer was nowhere to be found. His coffin looked very worn out.
His heart started to pound loudly in his chest.
“Why is it… dad! Dad!!” he ran into the forest.
For his coffin to be this damaged to this extent could only mean they were attacked. He saw a lot of metal scraps sticking on it. it was most likely caused by a grenade or a bomb.
“Fuck! Old man, where are you…”
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The Vicious and Vengeful
"Good, get out of my sight, and stay out of it."
The stream of energy, suddenly winked out of existence as if it never existed, to begin with. The cloaked figure once more turned to the coffin place upon a stone stand curved with unknown patterns and language on dark material. The coffin itself was cloaked in the surrounding darkness. The only thing noticeable was that it was made of ice.
The cloaked figure slowly putting its head on top of the coffin for quite some time before lifting it, the figure started fading away but not speaking, "wait for it love, I will make you who you should have been before you were destroyed."
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Love Bites
The sky was dark, not a star to give light to what lay below. With the moon nowhere to be found, candles were the only source of light to illuminate the gold, crystal embedded, coffin. In it, a still body with skin as pale as a diamond and hair as white as snow lay. The coffin took its place in the middle of the room under the opening to reveal the inky sky.
Several hooded bodies encircled the golden resting places, all chanting in low unknown tongue with their features shadowed, in their hands carrying goblets filled with crimson liquid.
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Frequently Asked Questions
Reading 'Tell Me a Riddle' feels like unraveling a tightly wound spool of thread, each layer revealing something deeper about the human condition. At its core, it's a meditation on memory, identity, and the unspoken tensions in long-term relationships. The protagonist, Eva, embodies the struggle of a woman who's spent her life fulfilling societal and familial roles, only to confront the emptiness of those sacrifices in her old age. Her journey isn't just physical—it's a reckoning with the suppressed dreams and resentments that surface when mortality becomes undeniable.
The beauty of Tillie Olsen's writing lies in how she frames this existential crisis within mundane domesticity. Arguments about a radio or the placement of furniture become microcosms of larger battles about autonomy and legacy. What haunts me most is the portrayal of language itself as both a bridge and a barrier—Eva's Yiddish lullabies and fragmented memories contrast sharply with her husband David's pragmatic English, mirroring how even shared history can't always translate into understanding. It leaves you wondering how many silent battles are fought in ordinary homes.
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