Akainu Death Novels & Stories

After I donated my kidney to my movie star girlfriend, she finally agreed to marry me. On our wedding day, Vanessa Laurent left only a video of herself jumping off a cliff, then disappeared. I led a desperate search and rescue at the mountain base for three days straight. Even when a falling boulder crushed my leg, I kept going. When I finally dragged myself to the scene with my last shred of strength, I found Vanessa tangled up with Mason Miller, her late sister's husband. Her usually cold expression was flushed, her thighs red and swollen. When our eyes met, she did not even flinch. "Today is my sister's death anniversary. Mason was going to kill himself to follow her, so I had no choice but to sleep with him. From now on, I'll fulfill my duties to both of you." Mason looked down at me with contempt. "You don't mind if I consummate with Vanessa first, do you? You can wait for your turn." Everyone expected me to explode, but I just smiled. "Of course." I was done with Vanessa. I would never be with her again.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

On the road, I met a woman unlike anyone I had ever seen before. Her name was Janet Smith. She seemed slow and almost childlike, yet she had been wandering alone for two years without ever going home. Even with one leg crippled, she had forced herself to climb the Highveil Mountains. This time, however, she was caught in a blizzard. Injured and stranded, she could no longer make her way down. As her vision blurred and her strength slipped away, tears covered her face. She placed a pair of small handmade clay dolls in my hands. "I'm probably going to die here," she murmured. "Please give these to my adoptive brother, Chester Graham." She was clearly at death's door, yet her smile was soft and unexpectedly serene. "Tell him I've seen enough of the world. I don't love him anymore. And tell him he doesn't need to worry. I'm not so foolish now. I won't cause trouble for anyone again." Chester? At the sound of his name, I stood rooted to the spot. In Riverton City, everyone who worked at the harbor knew him, the so-called Ship King. Right before I left for the mountains, news of his engagement had been everywhere.

In the fifth year after my death, my wife, Yuna Lane, visited my apartment once more. She wanted me to take the blame for her childhood sweetheart's corporate fraud crimes. "Finn, Joe is going to be elected the chairman of the Trade Association. He can't afford any blemish to his reputation. Will you only be satisfied by thoroughly ruining him? "It's only two more years in prison! Joe said he'll give you a job once you're released. Stop being so ungrateful!" Her screams and shouts startled my neighbors. … When she banged on the door once more, the woman who lived across from me finally stepped out into the hallway. "Miss, stop banging on the door. He died long ago." "He's dead?" The woman sighed. "Yes. I hear it goes back to that fraud case years ago. The victim's family wasn't happy with the sentence, so as soon as Finn was released, they had him run over and killed.” My wife's face turned stark white upon hearing the truth. However, barely a few seconds passed before she let out a cold scoff, confident this was all just a scheme of mine. "Great. He's willing to fake his death just so he can get out of helping Joe. Does he really think I'm helpless and powerless against his schemes? Tell him that his parents are dead meat if he doesn't show up in three days!" She then violently kicked the metal grills of my door before strutting away on her high heels. The woman watched her walk away with bloodshot eyes, shaking her head in pity as she muttered under her breath, "Poor guy. His old man died soon after hearing of his death..."

On Mom's death anniversary, drug dealers break into the cemetery and take me away. To get revenge on my brother, Zack Smith—a forensic pathologist—they torture me until there isn't even a single uninjured spot left on my body. I hold on for almost three days, barely surviving, until I finally get a chance to call him for help. However, Zack replied, "Why didn't they kill you for good? A jinx like you who killed your own mother shouldn't be allowed to live!" When the drug dealers notice my action, they shatter all of my bones. The next day, a janitor discovers several large bags of human remains in the trash can. Zack painstakingly reassembles my body back together with his own hands—yet he fails to recognize that it's me, his younger sister he always claims to hate. When the drug dealers are finally arrested, he descends into madness.

Four days after my death, my four-year-old daughter finally sensed that something was terribly wrong. The fridge door slammed into her forehead when she tried to get a snack. Normally, I would've been there in a heartbeat—arms open, kisses ready, whispering, "You're okay, sweetheart, Mommy's here." But this time, I just lay on the bed, cold and still.​ She didn't understand. She thought the sweet treat would make me respond. So she held the final piece of chocolate up to my mouth. "Here, Mommy. Have some chocolate..." But I didn't even blink. She climbed into my arms, clutching my clothes tightly. "Mommy... Mommy, wake up..." She waited for me to stroke her hair, to tell her that everything was going to be fine. There was only silence.​ Completely lost and scared, she found my phone. "Daddy, why is Mommy still sleeping?" she asked, her voice filled with desperation.​ In response, Oliver sent a photo of himself having Christmas Eve dinner with his childhood sweetheart. His voice was icy cold when he replied, "She's just sleeping, not dead. It's Christmas Eve, and I'm busy. Tell her to stop playing games and come apologize when she's done sulking." Then he hung up.​ But when the truth finally hit Oliver—when the coroner's report came, when the police knocked on his door right in the middle of his laughter, when he realized I'd been lying dead for four days while he toasted—he broke.

I have been dead for seven years. For seven years, a rare plague had ravaged the Silver Moon Kingdom. The new Luna, Lilith, wasn't immune either. She coughed up blood daily, her old wounds weeping anew with every full moon. Even in death, to the wolf packs, I was still the jinx. The false Luna who had beguiled the Alpha King. The cursed one destined to bring ruin to the kingdom. The entire kingdom begged Alpha King Kaelan to banish my vengeful spirit. My former mate was in the royal palace, softly consoling his current Luna, my sister. "Lilith, don't be afraid. If she insists on tormenting you with her curse even after death, then I will tear her inner wolf to shreds. You'll never be threatened by her again." But when they set foot in the Rogue Lands where I had been exiled, they found no wandering spirit of mine. Before them knelt the corpses of dozens of she-wolves, arranged neatly before my crude grave. They had all been exiled as "sinners", yet now, in death, they offered their final act of devotion. There was no trace of any spirit. There was only a small girl, about six years old, sitting beside the tombstone and clutching a photograph of me from when I was alive. Her ice-blue eyes were a perfect reflection of Kaelan's. "You're too late," she said. "Her inner wolf returned to the Moon Goddess long ago." "I've only been waiting here to get justice for my mother."

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

My father hates my mother for ruining his chance with his first love, and his hatred spills onto me, the unwanted child who carries her blood. I'm 18 when I'm kidnapped. The abductor calls Dad, who is a police officer, and threatens him. Dad thinks I staged the whole thing myself and tells the man to slice me apart if he wants to. The abductor tortures me to death. He even cuts my body into pieces and feeds it to the fish. Only then does Dad lose his mind. He tracks down the abductor and hacks him to death.