The Graveyard Book Novels & Stories

The whole field was becoming a huge book, writing itself beneath their feet. “We have to find the real Gabe,” June said. She grabbed Dante’s hand. His grip was weak, but she squeezed harder. “If his name’s on the list of the dead, there’s got to be a way back. This book is alive. It listens to us—our blood, our work.” “You can’t change what’s already been eaten,” the shadow hissed, lunging. Smoky hands reached for June’s book. “Run!” June yelled. They tore across the field, but nothing felt solid. Each step crumpled the paper ground beneath them. Huge black letters appeared at their feet: THE END OF THE AVERY FAMILY.

Thin wires dangled overhead, some long dead, some faintly alive, carrying a low, electric hum. Maris whistled under her breath, though even she kept her voice to the smallest possible sound. “It’s… a graveyard,” she murmured. “But for secrets.” Crane stepped past her, his expression unreadable in the dim glow of the lights that flickered on as the motion sensors caught them. “Not just secrets. Histories. Every scandal they buried. Every deal they erased. Every death they hid.” His voice tightened. “This is where corporations go to make sure the world never remembers.”

The sun cast a silvery glow over the graveyard, illuminating the rows of tombstones that stood like silent sentinels. Her paws made soft thuds against the damp earth, the sound muffled by the early-hour stillness. The scent of freshly cut flowers mingled with the earthy musk of the graveyard, creating a bittersweet fragrance that filled Lyra's senses. She weaved through the rows, her keen senses guiding her unerringly toward the spot she sought. Jada and Xander following closely behind her.

He anticipated this move and awaited his opponent's next move with eagerness. Therefore, he didn't rush, instead maintaining a steady pace as he trailed the figure. It darted swiftly, leading Adrian to a sprawling graveyard. Adrian halted, surveying the scene. It was an ancient, abandoned cemetery, its graves appearing to have stood for centuries. The figure now stood amid the graves, emitting a sinister laugh. "Kid, do you realize the gravest mistake of your life? It's following me here!" he taunted Adrian, his voice laced with mockery.

The screen showed me, night after night, sitting alone by his fake grave, crying until the sun came up. That girl who’d been terrified of the dark had spent hundreds of nights in that cold, creepy cemetery, talking to a man who wasn’t even dead. Vincent clutched the laptop to his chest, collapsing to his knees at the grave and sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. He hunted down my friends, my old colleagues at the law firm. He got nothing. Not a single whisper of where I’d gone. To widen the search, he went off the deep end, expanding the Castellano empire city by city.

CHAPTER 5 Grave's POV I built the Iron Revenants on spilled blood and a name no one dared whisper twice. By forty-two, I had buried more men than I could count, and trust me, didn’t lose sleep over it. If anything, I slept better with each one gone. That’s what happens when your reputation walks into a room before you do. Loyalty keeps you alive in my world. Disloyalty? It will get your face smashed into the pavement before your mama can cry over your bones.

His body, which had appeared to be under the control of this mysterious figure, was now back in his hands. "Curse you and your machinations! I won't let you corrupt any more lives. I'll put an end to your reign of terror." Rafe cursed. The man examined a bag of old books he'd brought back from Singapore. It took him a long journey and a long process to find the book's location. "This grimoire, it's the key to eradicating your presence, saving her from a fate she doesn't deserve." "God, I'm exhausted from all this." Rafe whispered with a face that looked really tired as if a lot of heavy loads were on his mind this time.

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?

It had been a decade since we were married. I led a group of men to excavate Jackie's first love's grave. Everyone around us praised him for being a loyal man. He never forgot his first love though she'd already died ten years ago. He'd go to the cemetery and celebrate her birthday all by himself every year. Yvonne's name was always at the top of his contact list. I was not angry at all. Instead, I was glad I married someone so loyal.

No statue of angels or gargoyles stood sentry near or around it, just untrimmed shrubs and towering trees that looked as old as time. Carved on the black stone were the initials E.R. It was meant to be unanimous to all who looked at it, but to the mage, he knew exactly who this person was buried six feet below. From his coat’s pocket, he fished out a booklet with tattered edges and dog ears. With a single sweep of his palm on the cover, the booklet grew in size enough to read the contents without wincing. It was the necromancy book. He flipped a page with the bookmark and then chanted its contents while shutting his eyes close.