Novel & Cerita Alex Brightman The Whole "being Dead" Thing

she stammered. I stepped into the ward, where Brandon lay under a stark white sheet. Melissa moved to block me, murmuring some excuse about sparing me the pain. However, I was not having any of it. I gently nudged Melissa to the side and drew back the sheet from Brandon's body. There he was, lying on the hospital bed, his cheeks flushed and his face peaceful—hardly the image of a dead man. I shook him and called his name, but he would not stir. Something was off. Without hesitation, I dialed the crematorium. "Hello. My husband has passed, and I need to arrange for his cremation immediately."

My unborn bαby wαs αbout to be ripped αwαy. The mαn I once loved hαd killed one child αnd ordered the deαth of the other. There wαs nothing left for me. The αmbulαnce doors slαmmed‚ the sound echoing in the distαnce of my fαding mind. Theo kept tαlking‚ his words shαking. “You’re not αllowed to die‚ do you heαr me? You don’t get to give up‚ you fight‚ Celeste‚ fight—”

"Everyone always said you were born cursed. Just like that psychic said, you'd be the one to ruin me and keep me from what was rightfully mine. Even after they sent you away, I was still terrified. You not being dead is my nightmare every single night." Melody looked like a madwoman. "Later, I found that psychic again," she spat. "He was nothing but a fraud. My parents paid him well, so he pretended to be clever and made up a bunch of rubbish. But I wasn't satisfied. You deserved to die. I got this statue from him. He told me that if I stuffed a person's birth data and hair into it, I could burn that person's life away and make it serve me. So what if I copied your designs, Charlotte? It's a

Then an elderly man appeared. Robert Harrison. Alive. The billionaire looked exhausted. As if he hadn't slept in weeks. His eyes locked directly onto the camera. And somehow… It felt as though he was looking directly at her. "If you're watching this," he said quietly, "then I'm already dead." Elara froze. The man continued speaking. "You have questions. I know you do." Thunder exploded outside. The lights flickered. On the screen, Harrison glanced over his shoulder. Almost as though he feared someone was listening.

The pain in my neck was gone. I realized I could fly. My body floated through the air as light as a cloud. Drifting upward, I looked down. Below the balcony, a boy in a blue winter coat hung from a strand of bunting. His body was swaying gently in the freezing wind. His face was a bruised purple, and his wide eyes were staring blankly into the distance. Why did he look exactly like me? That was when it hit me. I was dead.

"You heard me very well! If you're going to kill me, do it here. And tell your cowardly boss, who couldn't kill me with his own hands, that I'll be waiting for him in Hell." When he heard this, John began to laugh. "Did I say something funny?" I was angry that he was taking everything as a joke. Even the murder of a human. "Actually yes." he continued to laugh. "I didn't come to kill you. I'm coming to walk you around the mansion. As for Richard, he went to ride his favorite horse, Spirit. When he gets home, he does this first." Poor animal, had a terrible owner. "Oh, that means I should feel lucky." I replied irritably.

The morgue was cold, carrying a foul, sterile smell. Expressionless staff pushed me into a metal drawer. With a soft "click," the door closed. The system's voice echoed in my mind. [Death confirmed. Final storyline completed.] [Countdown to soul departure: 71 hours 59 minutes.] [Please await the opening of the passage.] I drifted in the cold, hollow air and let out a breath. Finally, things were coming to an end.

All it took was a single sentence to stir her into this fury? He stepped closer, studying every subtle expression on her face in the dim night. As if he wanted to witness the pain of her accepting the truth, he deliberately said, "There's no need to be so surprised. What I'm saying is a fact. Otherwise, why would I let you stay here?" Ariel's fists trembled, but her gaze remained sharp and unforgiving. Samson didn't like seeing her like this, but he didn't mind. He leaned down toward her. "Ariel, Jayson's dead. He's not in this world anymore. You need to move on."

Alex grumbled and I hummed, "I'll appear before my father when the time is right." "What about Ginevra, how would she know?" He asked. "You don't worry your head about that one. She'll definitely find me." She was, after all, the smartest woman I had ever known. The Ghost will be dead by the break of dawn. The Ghost—Ricardo Sanchez will undergo a rebirth by the break of dawn. But even in my confidence, my heart still shuddered with questions. Would I truly be dead by the break of dawn, or would the universe be kind enough to grant me an opportunity at yet another life?

"And if they send something worse?" "We fight that too." Axel looked around at all of us. "I've been dead for ninety-nine years. I've survived by being careful, by playing it safe, by not making waves. But I'm done with that. I'd rather die fighting beside you all than spend another century hiding." "That's really inspirational," Brady said. "Terrifying, but inspirational." We returned to the lounge as the sky darkened. Other deadies watched us pass with a mixture of fear and curiosity. They'd heard about the administrator's visit, about the confrontation, about the threats.