The Graveyard Novel Novels & Stories

Zoe said, and quickly dragged both of them towards the graveyard. "Hold it." Quinn stopped her. "Are you sure we're going in there? In the middle of the night?" "I mean, I have to light a candle and put some flowers at his grave, right?" "Zoe, are you—" "Zip it! Let's move." Zoe refused to let them speak and kept shoving them inside. The graveyard was dimly lit, though the rows of graves were clean and tidy. Only the rich and powerful of North City can be interred here. In fact, it cost so much to buy a lot here that the most expensive apartment units in the city were cheaper.

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.

He also forced me to get on my knees in repentance every year during the week of Mom's death anniversary. It just happened to be the first day of that very week when the drug dealers broke into the cemetery. Zack's phone suddenly rang at that moment. "Zack! Come to the police station as fast as you can!" … It was already night time by the time Zack rushed to the police station. "Another case?" he asked, turning to look at Officer Wright, captain of the homicide unit. "Take a look yourself," Officer Wright replied with a sombre look. Zack opened up the black plastic bag placed on the autopsy table. The smell of blood mixed with decay hit him like a wave, making him frown involuntarily.

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.

Cassidy was the one who got lucky. The grave realm wasn’t as bad as she was expecting. Not to mention she does live in a cemetery surrounded by dead people every day. This is exactly what the grave realm was all about. It was just one never ending cemetery surrounded by lights and festivities and only a few buildings. As soon as Cassidy stepped foot in the grave realm, she felt like she had come home. Everywhere she looked there was tombstone after tombstone and it brought a tear to her eye. She saw ghosts looking at her before trying to go invisible but she told them it wouldn’t work on her.

Chains meandered out of the mess—hundreds of bookmarks, metal and ribbon and cord, weaving themselves into links that wrapped around the book‑body like restraints turned adornment. Its head was a cluster of dictionaries and style guides and old, heavy Bibles, fused spine‑out into a crude skull. Where its eyes should have been, ink pooled, thick and dripping—two dark, wet hollows that bled black down the stacked faces of its composite. It towered above the field, easily twice the size of the Ferris wheel gondola, casting a jagged shadow over the drifting pages. The graveyard itself seemed to flinch around it. When it opened its mouth—its “jaw” a row of clamped‑shut tomes creaking apart—the so

They had to see us with their own eyes. With the gravesite nearly unearthed, the groundskeeper stumbled out. “Oh, my Moon Goddess! I laid those she-wolves to rest. It’s bad enough that no werewolf held a funeral for them now that they are gone. Why are you digging up their grave?” Dumbstruck, Blake and Kaden paused. “Lucia, I was wrong! It’s all my fault. Come back! I regret everything!” Blake dropped to his knees and struck his palm across his face repeatedly.

His voice was ragged, his chest heaving under his soaked shirt. "I’m fine," I lied for the hundredth time. I was definitely not fine. I was shivering so hard my teeth were clicking together, and the heavy satchel of ledgers was banging against my hip, bruising me with every movement. But I wasn't letting go of those books. Not now. The graveyard sat on a small hill, surrounded by a rusted iron fence that looked like jagged teeth against the gray sky. It was a lonely, creepy place even on a sunny day, but in this storm, it felt like the set of a horror movie. We needed to get to the SUV Henry had stashed for us just past the cemetery gates. It was our ticket out of this nightmare.

The moment he saw it he knew why the thing in the ground had guided him here. The ground in front of the gravestone had sunk into a deep depression, like a grassy pit. What made it look even odder was the way the turf all around it was folded in on itself. As though the grass was a balloon that had been deflated or the stretched and flabby skin of someone who’s undergone rapid weight loss. It had looked very different several days ago.