Schoolbus Graveyard Novels & Stories

Jules asked as they returned to the cab. “Don’t think so,” Cameron inspected himself. “What happens if I do?” “Burns through cloth, and burns through you,” Jules said grimly. “Have to wash it off quick in the river.” “F-k,” Cameron shook his head incredulously. “Will burn through the gloves too,” Jules told him as he turned the Ute towards the rocky area that the Cartwrights called “the graveyard.” In the pre-dawn, with the headlights and spotlights picking out the twisted wrecks of cars and farm machinery abandoned over the eras of the Cartwrights farming the land and dragging out shadow into mystery, it was an eery place. Cameron was relieved when they managed to get the first corpse into

Eli explained. “I went to the school to take care of the matters about the accidents that happened recently. Everything for now is solved and paid.” Ethan told me his side. I smiled before nodding, “Thank you for telling me, what I did the whole day was just study about this vanishing graveyard.” They both looked at me intently, it looked like I got their attention because of that. “I read that this vanishing graveyard can only be seen by the ones who were allowed by the souls of the ones buried there.”

He hadn’t mentioned Matteo at all since the day the news broke, and even now, as they drove through the grey-toned city where the burial would happen, he just stared out the opposite window with his sunglasses on, fingers resting over his lips like there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know where to start. They arrived at the location a little past noon. There's a cemetery that's older than most places she’d seen close to the mansion, all within tall iron gates, gravel pathways, and trees that looked way older than them. A few cars were already parked outside the building, each with a driver seating at the front seat. Lucas stepped out first, straightening his jacket and adjusting

Kassidy's POV One hour later, the tires of the rideshare car crunched loudly against the gravel driveway of Oakwood Cemetery, located in Mankato, just one town over from where Minnesota State University was located. I paid the driver and stepped out, pulling my black shawl tightly around my shoulders. The grass was dead and covered in patches of dirty, melting snow. I looked toward the open plot on the hillside, expecting a massive crowd. But only what appeared to be Luca's immediate family (which was just a cluster of sobbing people) a priest, some reporters, and maybe three or four other random people stood near the edge of the grave.

My fingers were tapping the table. Soft. But everyone felt it. Message was clear. Still a Zander running this department. Just not Jay. Me. Get in line— or get out. That's how it works now. *** A month after cleaning up Northpoint's mess, I finally went back to Westside. Clouds hung low. I drove out to the cemetery. That abandoned stretch. Followed memory. Deeper in. Found it. My headstone. Black-and-white photo. Half-buried in weeds.

The school looked nothing like he remembered. Or maybe it did, and that was the problem. Cedric sat in the parked car for longer than he meant to, engine off, hands still on the wheel. The building was half-dead already, windows boarded, walls tagged in overlapping graffiti, a demolition notice stapled to a post near the entrance that the weather had already started to erase. In a few months none of this would exist. Just a cleared lot and whatever they decided to put there instead.

Too many read ‘Fell in the war,’ while others offer a personal farewell. I recognize some of the logos… former members of The Shadows or other existing packs. Yet there are unknown symbols too. One, featuring a snake, that I have seen on some of Zombie's members; there are so many graves marked with it, most stating they were lost in the war. It gives me the unsettling impression that an entire pack was wiped out. Other stones bear faded logos of a rearing horse or a crudely drawn cat. Inside the graveyard, the expanse seems endless. So many lives cut short, and though there are no dates on the stones, I can’t help but imagine that none of these souls lived to see old age.

Other corpses come from another section, or maybe from the last year's students. The monster, noticing it already sucked too many souls and the bodies were piling up, walked away as nothing happened. It made its way to the higher grounds of the school, where important class periods are held. The clouds are darker there and seem like more monsters are hiding there. And looked like it is not that far away from what she was standing. If her calculations were right, approximately two kilometers away from her tree to the higher grounds. This school is pretty large than the number of students. On where the tree was located, is the monument dedicated to the great minds that graduated here. Forty me

“And... I saved the best for last. We’re gonna go to the south side of town to the cemetery. We’re gonna shove some headstones, maybe even find some headstones of people we hate. They’ll have to go all over the graveyard and set’em back up!” “Oh yeah, on the other side of the four-lane highway... State Road 32.” “That’s the one buddy. We’ll call it a night afterward.” So, the boys rode off into the darkness of the narrow neighborhood streets, looking to egg the nicest cars. They didn’t want to ‘waste’ their eggs on junky, dirty cars. For each of their dirty tricks, they picked a different neighborhood, so few of them remained unscathed.

Someone was alive inside that bus. Clara zoomed in, her heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and dread. The bus was a school bus, its yellow paint faded and chipped, its windows cracked and frosted. It had been abandoned weeks ago, its passengers presumably dead or fled. But the heat signature suggested otherwise. Someone had survived.