After I Died Novels & Stories

I would have laughed if I had lungs. “Feels more like I jumped off the train with a bomb and hoped for the best,” I said. “Is it… gone?” “The old structure?” The composite head tilted. “Collapsing. It takes time for anything that big to finish dying, even outside of time. But you put the kill command in the right place.” Somewhere far away—too far to hear, but close enough to *feel*—a massive system screamed and then went quiet. “And this?” I asked, glancing around at the endless white. “Is this… what, the after‑after‑life? The waiting room for idiots who stab gods with pens?”

I've been born ten times, and every one of those lives ended badly, because nobody ever noticed I was there. So this life, I decided to stop struggling and just wait to die. At five I was kidnapped. I lay down where I was, held my breath, and dusted a layer of white lime over myself for good measure. The kidnappers thought they'd killed me and turned themselves in on the spot. When the police found me, I was lying on a gurney outside the morgue doors, waving at the attendant. "Could you push a little faster? I've got a reincarnation to catch." At seventeen, my birth parents found me. On the drive back to the estate, I refused the seat and climbed into the trunk instead, like I'd done i

I was Liliana Moretti, daughter of one of Black Harbor's mafia families. I had always been gentle, soft-spoken, and afraid of almost everything. I would not even touch a gun. My sister was the exact opposite. Alessandra Moretti was everything I wasn't—smart, capable, bloodthirsty, and ruthless. Once she drew a gun, she never missed. Every mafia family in Black Harbor feared Alessandra. At 22, she took 12 men and seized back Pier Seven, a territory half the city had been fighting over. Three years later, our family's territory had doubled. Even our father knew when to shut up around her. One look from Alessandra was enough. Then she died. Four years later, my father's illegitimate daughter, G

Late at night, the hospital room was as silent as a cemetery. Only the sound of my heavy, uneven breathing echoed through the darkness. By now, the hemolytic reaction had reached the final stage, leaving me in a terminal condition. My kidneys had completely shut down. My lungs were filling with fluid. Every breath felt like swallowing shards of broken glass. Suddenly, fireworks started to burst outside the window, the sounds somehow getting through the soundproof glass as they exploded in the sky. I checked my phone and saw Letizia's livestream.

was dead, LIFE AFTER DEATH Awoditi began his experience while he was dead, " immediately after I lost my life here, I saw myself standing a few steps away from where I had died, I still saw my body lied on the ground and my head was seated not too far from it, I screamed and shouted, I needed to get back alive as I was mad at the witch who had made me to face you in Battle, no matter how hard I tried to get back into my body, I just couldn't a strong force was forcing me apart from every living things, just as I was there Aro too showed up, he had also died and had joined we the dead, I noticed some more crowd joining us now and then, I knew I was not supposed to had killed Aro, but the did

I stumbled after them. "No—don't—" I whispered. They'd already destroyed everything. I was a dead man I was gonna die even more tomorrow.

Alive. And I wanted to believe that, too. But something was wrong. I didn’t feel… right. Not like I had before I died. The air around me felt different. My body moved, breathed, and responded, but it wasn’t the same. Like something inside me hadn’t come back fully. But I didn’t say that. Not yet. I didn’t want to ruin this moment for everyone. I looked up at Melissa. “Thank you,” I said quietly. She nodded once, but her eyes stayed locked on mine. There was something in her stare that made my stomach twist.

I panicked and tried to wipe them away, but my hands went right through her again. "Mom’s been dead for four years, and you’re still insulting her. You’re awful! Waaaah…" That’s right. I had been dead for four years. I died the year after our divorce. On the other end of the phone, disbelief lingered in his voice. "Dead? No way. Evil people live forever. Even if I died, she’d still be alive." Emma was devastated and furious. "You’re awful! I’ll never talk to you again. And I’ll tell Mom’s spirit not to love you anymore. I’ll burn all the things she kept of yours. Waaaah…"

" These sentences were all said by Winston himself a few days ago. Each wound was pushing the person towards death. This abused person was his fiancée. I tilted my head, forcing back the tears that were about to fall. How could it not hurt? My last thought before I died was that I wanted to live. I wanted to keep our child. Because they might be the only child I had in my life. However, everything I wanted to cherish became a bubble in that nightmare.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I listened to them speak, eventually freezing into ice. Silence grew once more in the room. However, the temperature was still dropping. My mind grew even hazier. 'Mom, I'm coming to you. I'm sorry. I can't live on. I'm sorry...' I was dead. I died. I died in that icy basement they locked me in. As the last shreds of warmth fled my body, I thought to myself, 'If there is a next life, I don't want to see them again.' However, I never realized my mind would stay past my death.