Independence After Death Short Stories & Novels

I was the 99th High Priestess to serve the Temple of Aubin. Through a potent, forbidden ritual known as Soulforging, I could rewrite a person's fate in exchange for a fragment of my life and soul. In the first year we were together, I used Soulforging to save Emile Albrecht from certain death after an arrow pierced his heart. The ritual's toll bleached my hair white. In our third year together, I used Soulforging again to save him from the executioner's blade. He was named heir apparent. In return, I lost my sight. In our sixth year together, Emile brought the woman who had once saved his life by shielding him from that arrow years before. He ordered me to perform another Soulforging ritual to save her. I shook my head and told him I could not perform it again. My soul had almost been exhausted. One more ritual would erase me completely. He seized my wrists and forced me closer despite my struggle. "You survived that ritual twice already! Why would saving a mortal from danger suddenly kill you? "You know what I think? I think you're just throwing a tantrum no one asked for. You're trying to be dramatic about it costing your 'soul!'" I performed the ritual, suppressing the blood that threatened to spill from my throat, and saw it through to the end. The next day, Emile petitioned the king to name me his future queen. As my hands slowly turned transparent, I felt my way out of the palace. I would never be your queen, Emile. Seven days from now, Undine of Cracht would cease to exist.

Having been an invisible presence at home for ten years, I watch Mom and Dad hand me the only life ring as the cruise ship sinks, while they vanish into the ocean depths. Christian Gunn, my distant brother, desperately pushes me toward the shore until his body is completely frozen stiff by the icy seawater. He flashes a smile of relief and says, "Mom, Dad, and I have always regretted bringing you back to the Gunn family. If we hadn't, Freya would still be by our side. If there's a next life, please don't bother our family ever again." I watch his complexion turn increasingly pale before he closes his eyes forever. I can hear a rescue boat roaring nearby, but I smile wryly and, without a second thought, toss away my life ring. I open my eyes to find myself back in time, before the family reunion. I then hear a solemn voice beside me. "You need to understand that joining the Northwest Weapon Initiative means losing all contact with the outside world for at least a decade, if not longer. You must consider this carefully before making a decision, Ms. Lister." I watch Mom, Dad, and Christian heading my way, then lower my head and sign the paper. "I have considered it carefully. I'm willing to join."

When my elder sister, Melanie Grant, is 15, I inadvertently cause the death of our parents. I want to eat cake, so Mom and Dad make a U-turn halfway. Tragically, a drunk driver behind the wheel of a heavy-duty truck takes their lives on the spot. I suffer a severe blow to the head, causing my mental capacity to regress to that of a seven-year-old. Alone, Melanie buries Mom and Dad. When the orphanage offers to take me in, she holds back her tears and shakes her head. "My little brother needs me." Everyone believes she simply cannot bear to lose all her family members at once, but they assume that sooner or later, she'll remember what I've done and send me to the orphanage. Over the next decade, she takes me with her everywhere, from school to work. She even adopts another brother to help take care of me. One day, our little brother, Noah Cooper, burns his hand while pouring me a cup of hot water. Melanie suddenly shoves me to the floor. "It's been ten years! Haven't you had enough?" she barks. "I gave up my education and a good job for you! Why do you keep hurting us? You should've just died! Without you, all of us would be happier!" I don't understand why Melanie is so angry. But what I do know is that I must listen to her.

Mom raises me and my brother, Cameron Joyner, by herself after she gets a divorce. Cameron was born with congenital asthma and has to take medication every day. Although I'm healthier, Mom treats me better than Cameron. She always says, "You're the apple of my eye, Cassie. I don't want you to feel troubled because of Cam." From the very beginning of my life, I've always been number one in Mom's heart. However, the year I turn 15, Cameron suddenly disappears. Mom completely changes after he goes missing.

I have a congenital heart defect, and the doctors say I won't make it past 18. When I am ten, my parents bring home a blind child, saying she is my twin sister, Everly Wallace. My family spoils me rotten, but they treat Everly like a ghost. Everyone says Everly exists only to give me her heart. I try so hard to be good to this sister who shares my face, desperate to ease my guilt. When I reach 18, I lie on the operating table. Except they don't take my heart. They take my corneas. I die after that, while Everly finally sees the light.

After learning the silver poison had sunk deep into my heart with no cure left, I secretly returned to the pack I'd left five years ago. I just wanted to see Leon Frost one last time. The one who was now their Alpha. Instead, I walked right into news that he was about to mate with his new chosen, Shelly Davis. Worse—they caught me. My mother had me in a wheelchair. Leon's eyes flickered with something unreadable when he saw me. He didn't speak. But Shelly sure did. "Well. Look who finally crawled back. Five years and you look like hell. Can't even walk anymore?" Her voice dripped with mockery. I held back the tears and tugged at my sleeve, hiding the decay spreading across my arms. "It's nothing. Just tripped and hurt my leg." Shelly's laugh cut through the air again. "Since Leon and I are holding our bonding ceremony, you should come witness it. Ten days from now. Full moon night." I kept my face calm and forced a smile. "Can't make it. I'm heading somewhere far away." Then I glanced at Leon—his face still empty, still silent—and signaled my mother to wheel me home. The further he got, the harder the tears fell. Leon, I wasn't lying. I have less than ten days. Before your ceremony even starts, I'll be gone.

I've just gotten back from a business trip when my wife, Lisa Irwin, steps onto the windowsill. She looks at me, tears streaming down her face, and whispers, "I'm so sorry, honey." Then she jumps in front of me. Our three-month-old daughter, Ariah Conner, lies silent in her crib. She's not breathing, and her skin has turned a deep purple. Beside her, our nanny, Aunt Caitlin, lies unconscious with blood pooling from a head wound. The police tell me Lisa was sexually assaulted before she died, and Ariah suffocated. The security cameras were down. There was no sign of forced entry. In a single day, my whole world shatters. Every clue points to a phantom who doesn't exist. I spend five years hunting for answers. Yet even on my deathbed, I never catch the monster who ruined my life. As I close my eyes, one final thought haunts me. If I get another shot, I'll die before I let anything happen to Lisa and Ariah again. When I open my eyes, I'm back to the morning of the tragedy. I walk right out of my meeting and dial Lisa's number. "Don't open the door for anyone. Set up extra cameras around the house, and stay put until I get home!"

After my sister was born, my mother's love turned into a game decided by a coin toss. Mom had a custom gold coin made: the flower side stood for my sister, and the number side stood for me. For ten years, that coin decided who got the bigger slice of cake, who got a new dress, and even who went to the doctor when we were sick. But the number side never once landed face up. I cried, because none of it was fair, and Mom just looked at me coldly and said, "Your luck is worse than hers. Who are you going to blame for that?" The day my acceptance letter from the elite prep school arrived, all I wanted was a steak cooked by Mom. So I secretly swapped in a rigged coin engraved with a number on both sides. The coin hit the floor. Mom spotted the trick at once and kicked me hard, through the doorway and into my room. "You vicious little rotten thing. Get in there and think about what you did!" She didn't know that when she kicked me across the room, my head slammed into the sharp corner of my desk. Blood flooded my vision in an instant, and the pain was so intense I couldn't make a sound. I crawled toward the half-open door in desperation. I got a hand on the panel and tried to pull myself upright to call for help, and then a dead, silent dizziness rolled over me. My legs gave out, and my body, already unconscious, pitched straight forward. The momentum of my fall yanked the wooden door shut with a bang! I lay there limp as mud, and my own weight wedged that inward-opening door shut for good. Mom's furious voice came through from the hall. "So now you've got an attitude? Slamming doors at me? Then you can starve in there! "Don't be scared, Chloe. Mommy's taking you out for a big seafood dinner." Her heels receded down the hall as warm blood spread across the floor, inch by inch. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll win with my own luck.

The ninth time Julian Hale chose Vivian Cross over me, I held a knife to Vivian's throat and made her beg for forgiveness in the middle of a crowded downtown plaza. I thought that would finally be enough to end the affair. Instead, Julian made me pay for hurting her. He went after my father's company and destroyed it, leaving my family broke and buried in debt to loan sharks. In the end, my father, Martin Ellison, couldn't take it anymore. He swallowed an entire bottle of pills beside my mother, Diane Ellison. The shock was too much for her heart, and she died soon after. I lost both my parents in a single day. The day after the funerals, the doctor gave me more bad news. I had late-stage stomach cancer. I had three months left, maybe less. And just like that, I was done fighting. I moved out of our bedroom, threw away my wedding ring, and stopped calling him hundreds of times whenever he stayed out all night. Even when he brought Vivian home just to provoke me, I didn't argue. Instead, I hired a top chef to cook her favorite dishes. Julian thought I had finally learned my place. Then came Vivian's birthday. With a shy smile, she said her birthday wish was to marry Julian. I pulled the signed divorce papers from my bag and slid them across the table. Julian panicked. He ripped them apart and grabbed my wrist, his eyes bloodshot. "Nora, what game are you playing now? Trying to make me chase you? Where did all that fight in you go?" Before I could answer, I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Ten years ago, a fire broke out at my school. I saved four friends, but the flames left me an idiot. The four of them stood beside my hospital bed and cried, swearing they would spend the rest of their lives making it up to me. They were afraid I would get bullied, so they gave up their spots at two of the country's top universities and went to community college with me instead. They were afraid someone would trick me into leaving them, so the other three pushed Joshua Summers to confess his feelings for me. I had once said I envied people who lived in houses that didn't leak, so all four of them saved every cent they had and bought me a house for Joshua and me to live in after we married. Then came the party the night before my wedding to Joshua. When I returned from the bathroom, I heard everyone inside playing a round of Truth. The topic was "Secrets Loretta Doesn't Know." Curious, I pressed my ear to the crack in the door. Calvin Dawson's drunken laughter drifted through. "That little idiot has no idea tomorrow's wedding is actually for Nisha." I froze. After a moment of silence, my sister picked up where he had left off. "Loretta doesn't know that when Josh confessed to her, he only did it to spite Nisha. Who would've guessed she'd say yes? This wedding was supposed to be Nisha's from the start." My best friend's eyes reddened. "If my family hadn't forced me into marriage, I never would've taken Lori's wedding from her. I only want the ceremony. She can keep the title. As long as she's happy, my own happiness can wait until the next life." Joshua's eyes flickered. With a resigned expression, he revealed the final secret. "This morning, I got worked up enough to consider sending Loretta to her death, but I gave up on it in the end. We owe her a life anyway. Let's call this one paid off." I didn't know how long I stood there before I finally stumbled back to my room in a daze. I opened Joshua's bag, and there it was: an opened bottle of pills. My heart shuddered. The happiness I had cherished for ten years had never been anything more than repayment for a debt. Through my tears, I put the pills into my mouth one by one. There was no need to wait for the next life. In this one, I would give them the happiness they wanted.

A body was pulled from the sea, waterlogged and swollen. The woman was two months pregnant. Her face was unrecognizable, but I recognized the ring I had given her immediately. The dead woman was my daughter, Cecily Moretti. I had once been the most powerful Mafia Donna on the West Coast, with enemies everywhere. To protect Cecily, I staged a shipwreck ten years ago. I jumped into the sea clutching a doll and faked my own death. I left her in the care of the Griffiths family, whose son I had chosen to be her husband. I gave them money, power, and every advantage so my daughter could live a peaceful, happy life. But my investigation uncovered the truth. Five years after I disappeared, Cecily's intended husband, Selwyn Griffiths, fell in love with Iliana Valmont, the daughter of a noble family. "Donna, Selwyn broke his promise to marry Ms. Cecily. He also believed Iliana's lies and had Ms. Cecily tied to a reef as punishment. The abrasions on her wrists and ankles suggest she struggled to free herself as the tide came in. Then... then a wave swept her out to sea." As my lieutenant gave his report, my fingernails dug into my palms. I had lifted the Griffiths family to the top, yet my beloved daughter had been treated worse than a slave! Fighting back my grief, I slowly wrapped my hand around Cecily's scarred fingers. "Rest now, Cecily. I swear I'll avenge you."

Two years into my marriage with Luca Mancini, I'd gotten used to waiting. Wait until the accounts were settled—then he'd take me on our honeymoon. Wait until the family meeting was over—then he'd celebrate our anniversary with me. Wait until his men were taken care of—then he'd call the private doctor to see me. I knew how hard it was to sit in the Don's seat, so I never cried or made a scene about it. I even took half the work off his shoulders without being asked. Because of my patience and all the times I stepped back, things between us finally softened. When he was exhausted, he'd lean his head on my shoulder, kiss my forehead, and say: "My Donna, once this busy season is over, I promise I'll make it all up to you." Today was my birthday. He'd promised me half a month ago that he'd spend it with me. I'd booked out an entire restaurant. The cake was cut. I was waiting. But from six to ten, he never showed. Then a photo popped up in my inbox: In the pouring rain, Luca was holding an umbrella, shielding his childhood sweetheart, Anna, tight against his side. The timestamp on the photo read 9:40. Twenty minutes ago. He'd tilted the umbrella over Anna's head, letting the rain soak him through. Then his text came through: "I've got an important meeting. I'll be home late." Looking at that message, I didn't reply "Got it" like the good, understanding wife I always was. I thought I'd gotten used to waiting. I thought if I just cleared every obstacle out of his way, I'd finally get the man who kept his promises. But staring at that photo, my heart sank all the way to the bottom. It was never the waiting I was afraid of. It's just—last month, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia. This was the last birthday I'd ever have. I stood up, hollow, and walked home alone through the endless sound of rain. The man I'd been waiting for—I couldn't wait for him anymore.