After Death Romance Short Stories & Novels

Three years ago, I was the most promising member of the Scientific Expedition Team. After entering Salakole, I was killed by my fiancé's true love, Vivian Fowler. She stole my supplies, scratched my face, and pushed me off the ship. I died with my second child in my belly. But when the rescue team came, Vivian said I had stolen her supplies and was going to flee. My fiancé, Winston Patton, wrote a report and erased me from the expedition team. From then on, I became a joke. All the people on the team looked down on me. Until three years later, someone discovered my long-frozen body.

While the criminal was brutally killing me, my dad, the head of the criminal investigation division, and my mom, the chief forensic pathologist, were attending my sister Lily Lambert’s match. In a bid for revenge, the criminal, who had once been captured by my dad, cut out my tongue and used my phone to call him. My dad only said one thing before hanging up. "No matter what’s going on, Lily’s match is the top priority today!" The criminal sneered, "Seems I’ve kidnapped the wrong person. I thought they would love their biological daughter more!" At the crime scene, my parents were shocked by the brutal state of the body and condemned the cruelty of the killer. However, they did not realize that the horrifically mutilated corpse was their own daughter.

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

On the day I died, my boyfriend was with another woman. He was a man I had rescued from the clutches of rich women. My condition was for him to be my boyfriend for three years, and he agreed. I showered him with money, resources, and connections, single-handedly making him famous. Yet, while he told me we could not date publicly, he casually engaged in fake romance rumors with others for publicity. One of his rumored girlfriends even came to me with a voice message. "If it weren’t for using her as a stepping stone, who would bother with someone so dull and boring?" But after I died, why did he go mad?

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

Five years after my death, my daughter, Emma, dialed Xander Green’s number. She cautiously asked, "Do you like my mom?" She was trying to get an answer to the question I once wrote in my diary. "Xander, do you like me?" Unexpectedly, the voice on the other end sneered, "Did your mom put you up to this? Using her own daughter like a pawn? What an unfaithful woman! She’s already with your dad, yet still trying to rekindle things with me?"

My fiancé’s first love and I fell down the stairs at the same time, and he chose to save her instead, leaving me to lie there in a pool of blood as I waited for an ambulance. On the brink of death, I begged him not to abandon me, and he only kicked my hand away, saying, “Elodie, can’t you show a little kindness? Don’t you see that Celeste is unconscious?! “…I’ll make sure you pay for this later!” ‘Later’, as he put it, didn’t come to pass. As he left with his first love in his arms, I died along with the baby inside my womb.

My fiancée is a forensic doctor, and I'm a detective in the major crimes unit. I love her more than life itself, but she only cares about her first love. To help him wash his hands of a murder, she helps him deal with a corpse. What she doesn't know is that it's my corpse. When she learns the truth, she breaks down…

My husband has a PhD in medicine. He's fair, just, and kind… until the day his true love kills someone in an accident. He uses all the medical knowledge he has to help her get off scot-free. He turns the corpse into preserved specimens and displays them in his lab. When he's dealing with the corpse, he sees that there's an embryo in the womb. He's always been calm and composed, but he can't stop his heart from racing at the sight. What he doesn't know is that the corpse is mine, and the embryo is his child…

My husband's childhood sweetheart is a fake heiress. She and I are abducted at the same time. But when my husband, a doctor, arrives at the scene of the abduction with a medical team, he chooses to save her first. My legs have been broken, and I struggle to stay afloat in the ocean. I'm on the brink of death, and I beg him to save me and the child in my belly. He merely looks at me. Before leaving, he almost generously helps me call 911. Then, he says, "It's disgusting that you're lying about being pregnant just to save yourself. I've repaid you for saving my life—come to the hospital later today to sign the divorce papers." After listening to his words, I remove the hearing aid from my right ear with a trembling hand.

In order to save his crush, Zach Clark bought a dismembered female torso from the black market. He personally removed the kidney from the torso for his crush’s kidney transplant. To prevent the police from chasing him down, he threw the torso into sulphuric acid to destroy the evidence. But he did not know that the torso belonged to me.

Five years ago, I was the rising star of the nation’s top chemistry research lab, but on the eve of publishing the results of my study, my husband’s crush, Grace, killed me. She made several people violate me and cut my face up. Then, she injected sulfuric acid into my stomach, crushed my teeth and bones, and discarded my body without anyone’s knowledge. At that time, I was three months pregnant. But she told everyone that I stole the project’s research results and fled to another country. Jim, my husband, personally wrote a report to the government to label me as a globally wanted criminal. Five years later, a livestreamer who did nighttime explorations found my dried-up corpse in the basement of an abandoned warehouse.

Because I made Sam Whitaker's "perfect girl" take a cold shower, he threw me inside a freezer and locked the door. "Nancy caught a cold, so now I'm going to make you suffer with her!" I desperately clawed at the freezer door, screaming for help, but all I could see was Nancy Bullocks' lips moving. "Sam cares too much about me, so there's nothing I can do to plead on your behalf. I'm afraid you'll just have to endure this one." She set the temperature to the lowest possible setting, and the last sliver of my vision faded as the dust cover slipped into place. When Sam returned from his honeymoon, he finally showed some mercy and said he would let me out. "I'll let it slide this time, but let's see if you dare target Nancy again." 'I won't dare to target her again because I have already become a massive block of ice. One touch and I will shatter into a thousand pieces,' I said to myself.

When my fiance's student argued with me, she knocked over a gas cylinder and caused an explosion. As the fire spread, my fiancé rushed into the lab wearing a gas mask. However, his priority was to carry his student to safety. As he left, he said, "Wait for the rescue team! A teacher should treat their students like how a parent treats their children. If something happens to Amanda, you don't deserve to be a teacher!" In the end, I inhaled too much toxic gas and died, never having waited long enough for the rescue team to arrive. Since I was the only one who had mastered the core data of the lab, no one could take my place. This meant that five years of hard work in the lab were destroyed, and Astran University was kicked out of a global research project. Later, William, the once esteemed professor of Astran University, became a pariah—someone whom everyone scorned and reviled.

Alice Long and I were caught in the crossfire. When my boyfriend—a combat medic responsible for saving the wounded—came to our rescue, he pushed me aside. Gently cradling Alice, the girl I had shielded, he shot me a cold glance and said, "Crystal, I'm deeply disappointed in you. She needs immediate care to avoid infection!" What about me? Was I meant to die instead? When my flag-draped coffin arrived home, he had the nerve to weep openly at my memorial. This once-renowned combat medic, celebrated around the globe, never set foot outside his room again.

My husband was the leader of the rescue team. As I was trapped in a cave and surrounded by a pack of wolves, I desperately called him over and over. Yet, he hung up on me every single time. When the fire nearly burnt out and the wolves got closer, he finally called me and angrily accused me, "Can you stop wasting public resources? I'm the rescue team leader first, and then your husband." In the background, I heard a soft, feminine voice saying, "Howard, my arm has a cut. Can you take me to the hospital?" I was familiar with that voice. It was my husband's first love. Ever since her husband died, she clung to him. And my husband... He didn't just tolerate it; rather, he seemed to enjoy it. A wave of despair washed over me as I ended the call. My hands were trembling, and I tried to call the police, but before I could, the leader of the wolves pounced on me. I fell hard to the ground, and the rest of the pack, sensing the signal, ran toward me at an extraordinary speed. I didn't stand a chance to fight back, and in mere moments, I was ripped into pieces. Before my consciousness slipped away, I struggled to glance down at my lower abdomen one last time, and my lips quivered. "My baby, I'm sorry I failed you…"

My boyfriend is a forensic doctor. I've been abducted and tied to a bomb—there's only ten minutes to detonation. The abductors force me to call my boyfriend, but all I get is a scolding. "What the hell do you want, Michelle? What are you playing at, using your life as an excuse just because you're jealous? "Vi's cat has already been stuck in a tree for three days. She loves it like it's her life! If you delay me from saving it, you'll be a murderer!" I hear a coquettish voice ring out on the other end of the line. "Thank you for this, Kev. You're amazing!" I recognize that voice—it belongs to my boyfriend's childhood friend. I text my boyfriend when the bomb is about to explode. "Farewell forever. I pray we won't meet each other again in another life."

My husband's first love had been trapped in a car for an hour. After they pulled her out, his rage shifted onto me. “It’s your fault she got hurt,” he spat, his eyes blazing as he grabbed me. Before I could make sense of what was happening, he forced me into a wooden box, slamming the lid down with a deafening crack. “You’re going to feel every ounce of the pain she went through,” he hissed, nailing it shut. I pounded on the walls, my screams tearing through the air. “Please, I didn’t do anything! Let me out!” My throat burned with the effort, my fists aching, but nothing stopped him. “Stay in there until you’ve figured out how to act like a decent human being,” he said, his voice cold, dripping with contempt. Hours passed. My body twisted unnaturally in the tight space, bones throbbing as blood smeared the wood beneath me. I whispered into the dark, the pain unbearable. "Please… just let me out…" But he didn’t care. A week later, he returned, his laughter echoing with hers as they entered the house, carefree from their trip. He finally opened the box. But by then, I was already gone. The woman he locked away was no longer breathing, no longer pleading. Just a cold, silent corpse.

On my son’s birthday, my husband had asked his first love to pick our son up from our home. While I stubbornly refused to let him go, a huge fire broke out in the hallway during our standoff. I was struck by falling debris, and blood started streaming from my head. However, my son was unharmed as he lay beneath me. My husband, who was a firefighter, came forward to rescue us. But he handed the only gas mask he had to his first love. “Miss Leia has a weaker constitution. Dad, please get her out first. Mom, wait for the other firefighters to save you!” I watched them leave with a faint, bitter smile. It appeared that they had both forgotten my severe asthma and the fact that I would die without a gas mask.

Hadden's sister had merely choked on some water at the pool while she was swimming, and for that, he shoved me into the pool after tying me up. He left me with only a small hole for air that was barely an inch. He said I would have to pay double for every grievance Julia suffered. I never learned how to swim. There was nothing I could do but try my best to breathe as I sobbed and begged him to let me out. Yet all I received was a lecture. "You'll never learn if I don't teach you a lesson now." I struggled to stay afloat, but… It took five days before Hadden's anger dissipated and he put me out of my misery, but it was already too late. "I'll let you go this time, but you'd better not make the same mistake again!" I had already drowned to death.