Tombstone

Tombstone is stood in an old workshop. There are planks of wood on the sides with nails and all kinds of tools. “The construction of a coffin requires great attention to detail and effort.” He grabs a couple planks of wood and

“Grimskull.” “He’s made his fight, on the hill, in the early day.” “In the moment he chose to disband a brotherhood and attempt a different path, everything changed. He and Victor were entwined as one, until Walther decided otherwise. Their unity broken

he construction of a castle fit for a King is a somewhat arduous task. Most men desire to build one. Dr. Death decided to start with a solid foundation. He took his early life of disappointment and struggle, turning that into the

Inside the cemetery, Tombstone walks the narrow gritted pathway between the gravestones, looking left and right.  “This cemetery is full of people with good intentions.” “People who wished to do good things. People who spent their lives giving to the poor, traversing

In the boiler room of The Mortuary, Tombstone stands before bricks and mortar. There’s a ginormous hole from his fight with Destructo Boy and The Burned Man and he intends to repair it. “I know what I did. But to understand

“I have been sent by the symbol of Divine Love. Follow me, I have much to show you.” Those words echoed in my mind. I didn’t know why I chose to follow, just that I felt compelled to do so. The

e was supposed to feel it. Over and over. You understand that don’t you Maxwell? I put him in a box, six feet in the ground. When he woke up, it would be to darkness. It would be to nothing but terror. He

he sound of dirt being dug and shifted. “I do not do this for all the parents, Harold.” Inside a grave with a shovel is Tombstone. “But then, when a child is unfortunate enough to perish before their parents, their parents are more

arkness above. The tide of grey waters sloshes back and forth across a large sandy beach. Tombstone kneels, taking wooden planks apart. Around him are the souls of the deceased. “Take us.” They chant. Tombstone ignores them, disassembling something.  “The trip across these intrepid waters is a

ire crackles, wood crunches. “I did not want to do it.” Tombstone sits cutting a lonely figure beside the inferno. “The sound of pain is not one I cherish.” “It is not music to my ears.” “As I sit before the cremation furnace, the echoes