5 Faces Of Death Novels & Stories

My younger brother, Jason Callahan, died the day before school started. He jumped from the sixteenth floor of our apartment building. His head was twisted unnaturally to one side. There was not much blood. His tiny body lay curled in a dark pool beneath him. However, the strangest thing was the expression on his face. He was smiling. The moment people saw that smile, the entire crowd sucked in a sharp breath. It was still the face of a child, young and innocent at first glance, yet the smile carried something vicious and unsettling far beyond his age.

"Your mother was a casualty. Collateral damage if you will. And you, sweetheart, are about to be yet another." "Ginevra, enough!" Father yelled suddenly, then turned to me, a small breath escaping him. "Your mother died due to an accident." "Because they blocked every path in the city! Because they took the sick man who agreed to donate his heart! Are you really going to overlook that?" "Yes," he said simply, like he was answering to something as simple as wanting extra sugar with his customary afternoon tea. "Dad," I said, my voice low.

Theme:- Welcome to the Afterlife part 1 As it was inscribed in the holy book, it was given for a man to die once, and after that death, it is judgement. But for me, Rey Reed, it is different. If my guess is right, this will be the third time I have visited the land of the dead. The first time was when I escaped from the tar pit. I can't remember how long I lost consciousness, but when I woke up. I only opened my eyes in hell.

Christopher sounded aggrieved. "Gabriella, I'm scared. Just thinking about it makes me shiver. "Daniel died a horrible death, and so many of our comrades are gone too. It's all because of Victor. And now Oliver, who's about to be executed, is trying to clear his name? How many more people is he going to hurt before he stops?" Gabriella's fingers tensed. His words had shattered whatever brief calm she had just found. "Don't overthink this. Stay in bed, okay? I'll have the family doctor drop by now."

The news hit Mom hard, and her face turned deathly pale in an instant. Her fingers trembled against the doorknob. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Only after a long moment did she snap back to reality. Her eyes were bloodshot as she rasped hoarsely, “What did you just say? Who’s dead? Daisy? No, that’s impossible… That girl is tough. There’s no way she’d die!” The police fell silent for a moment, looking at her with sympathy.

Yeah everything looks all pristine and innocent during the day, but night time around the packhouse can be pretty fucking terrifying. And I’m the reaper himself. I have fourteen dead flies on my legs. Insects, yes, and definitely not sexy looking. But symbols of the males that tried to take me down and fuckin’ failed. But I know better than anyone, even my wolf… Flyers don’t live forever. We do our part to make this world a better place and try to leave it for those after us to prosper. Doze shakes his head and before he speaks, I already know why he’s pissed.

When our whole family saw the death timer for my sister will end on her sixteenth birthday, she became the most important person in the family. She suddenly took priority in everything, from food to dresses, and even bedtime stories. I felt for her, but I was also jealous that she was given everything. However, a day before her sixteenth birthday, my parents locked me up in the storeroom in fear that I would make a mess of things. I kept hammering the door, crying, "Mom, let me out! I'm having a fever, and my head hurts!" Mom didn't believe me. "Just stop! Your sister will die in just a day, and you're playing sick to gain our sympathy?! Don't you understand anything?!" "No…" I tried m

You have no right to be alive! @Death Wish

She’s harsher on those who hurt people she loved. She’s implementing death based on her experiences as Anna rather than neutral principle. “This is exactly the problem,” Original Death protests. “Death with personality becomes death with bias. She’s not enforcing endings equally anymore, she’s judging worthiness based on her individual values.” “So death has values now,” I argue. “Maybe that’s better than impersonal cessation.” “That’s corruption,” Original Death counters. “Death must be equal to everyone. Rich, poor, good, evil—all face the same ending. Death with personality plays favorites.”

It’s the perfect voice from beyond the grave: gravelly and frosty,giving the impression that Death is a gangster of the literal underworld. The elevator operator makes the big mistake of doubting what he has just heard and looks over his shoulder for the first time. Like an owl, he swivels his head 180 degrees so I see that for a face he has nothing but two dots for eyes and one eternal frown, basically an upside-down smile, all slit into a smooth, round mass of flesh. The face is as heartrendingly crude as a stickman’s face traced in dirt by a preschooler. But once those inanimate peepers lock on Death, they bulge. No sight could be more apt for the expression “eye-popping”. From the taut s