A book of strange and unnerving stories. A horror anthology novel filled with stories you send screaming.
Some stories contain graphic material, so those stories will include a warning at the start of it. Reader digression is advised.
Enjoy.
Disease was rampant in the area of south of Kansas. It killed off members of almost every family, the Adley family included. When someone passed from viscous illness, time was of the essence in burying them as not to allow the virus to spread from the deceased to the living. No visitations, wakes, or funerals. Once pronounced deceased, a hole was dug up and the body found a new home beneath the surface of the earth.
Uncle Harold Adley, a simple man who served his time in the automotive industry, died of disease and was buried in a heartbeat in the family cemetery. Nearly all the graves that conquered the land were fresh. The dirt was freshly dug up and grass had yet to grow. The flowers that were placed were still vibrant and hadn't a chance to wilt. So many deaths had occurred within the course of just a few weeks. Uncle Harold had dogs who were very fond of him so it wasn't surprising that after the burial ceremony, the two dogs stayed almost glued to his the grave.
The rest of the family began to think something was odd when a week and a half later passed and the dogs were still visiting his grave. The hounds were doing more than spending their days by this tombstone and sniffing the fresh cut roses. They were visibly distressed, frantic, and often barking while there. Their whimpers were difficult to ignore. They would even claw at the dirt, but were quickly shooed away by mourning family members.
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This went on for a month when the family decided to check on why the dogs were acting in such a bizarre manner. Reluctantly, the members dug up the coffin, brushed off the bits of dirt and worms, and undid the latches. A foul odor poured out of the casket.
Uncle Harold's hair has all been pulled out right from the scalp. His bony fingers were raw, bloody, and mangled from where, on the inside of the casket door, lied deep scratches in the wood. The face of Uncle Harold was contorted into a frighten manner, as if someone had surprised him from behind.
Uncle Harold was comatose when they buried him, not exactly dead in which the family had truly believed. He came to while underground, beneath the earth's crust, six feet into the planet. He had spent his last five or so days alive in a buried casket, breathing in thinning air as he knew that there was nothing in his power to stop death from sneaking in and taking his life.
