Anastasia Died Novels & Stories

Anastasia’s pov 👠 I yawn and stretch on my bed, this is the most comfortable sleep I’ve had in years! I turn and snuggle into my warm soft pillow, sleeping on a soft bed is like living in heaven. My eyes suddenly snaps open when something occurs to me…I quickly sit up. Since when did my bed become soft? Wait.. bed?! Last I remember was…I was walking with my phone in my hand, checking my account balance and then…. Oh, no! Could it be I’ve died and now I’m in heaven?! What about Denzel and my aunt? What are they gonna do?

That was right, the only thing that should be on my mind now should be Anastasia and no one else. ***The next day*** Anna's pov I needed to look good for Vincent so I asked Sarah for help to pick out an outfit from my closet so I could surprise Vincent, anything won't just do because he asked me to look pretty. She helped me with my hair first and ended up getting a ribbon from her house to tie at the front of my hair where Tom had cut off a strand. It wasn't showing up that much but I just wanted to cover it today. I wore an A-line blue dress that just came out above my knee.

so much had happened in that short period of time that her mind and body got whiplash from the change in her already mundane life. Two weeks ago Anastasia had presented a few months after turning 18. It was the start of spring when she felt her first heat. Thankfully, it had only lasted a day, but that was enough to tell everyone that she was mature. Her father, who had lived in a different part of the massive mansion they lived in called for her for the first time in months. He never even bothered to acknowledge her existence after her mother had died the previous fall because according to him she looked like her, finally having no reason to give her the time of day. She lived with the few

Her head tilts, her tone sharp and challenging. "Yes. Maybe because you don’t care if people are worried about you." My voice softens slightly, but my eyes don’t leave hers. At first, she flinches—like the words catch her off guard. For a split second, I see something break in her expression, and then she rebuilds her walls. Her jaw tightens. Her fists clench. She’s trying hard to keep that armour up, but not this time. Not with me. Max’s words echo in my head. He’d said that after Nate died three years ago, Anastasia lost the only person she ever confided in. That thought bothers me more than I can explain. Maybe because I can’t imagine surviving what she did. Alone.

I know I've become very ugly now. ... August 20, 2025 The sleeping pills seem to be losing their effectiveness. The doctor advised me to just stay in the hospital. He said it would get more painful toward the end. I refused. I never planned to live until the very end anyway. ... August 25, 2025 ... The original text had been crossed out with a black line. Two new lines were added: Willow Dawson died on this day. But Echo saved her.

"Anastasia, do not think about that now. You need to rest. You need to heal." "She died." A tear slipped down my cheek. I felt it trail hot against my skin. "I tried to save her, and I failed. I killed her, Kassian. They were right. I used an untested cure, and I killed her." "No. That is not—" "She was six years old. She had a stuffed wolf toy beside her pillow. She never got to play with them or run through the forest. She never got to howl at the moon. And I killed her."

DOMINIC Twenty minutes into the flight. I rubbed my hand against the back of my neck. I glanced at Anastasia. She leaned against her seat, eyes closed shut. Her cheek rested against the armrest, squished on the hard leather, lips parted slightly. Her coat was buttoned to the very last one, like she was afraid her clothes would slip again. They did have a habit of falling off her. My eyes dropped to her chest. I could still picture them from earlier. I’d always had a photographic memory, but that worked against me in cases like this.

I say. "The Life domain," she says. "Just the Life domain. Not Fate. I do not want Fate. I have never wanted Fate. Fate is—" She stops. "Fate is yours. It has always been yours. But Life—" Her voice does something I have not heard it do before. "I am watching our father die, Aelara. I have been watching him die for two years and I cannot do anything because I am the Minor Goddess of Illusion and illusion cannot hold life and it cannot stop time and it cannot do one single useful thing when someone you love is—" She stops.

Her sincerity and kindness felt like sunlight, slowly melting the ice around my heart. Later, I heard Anastasia died in prison. She had been killed by a fellow inmate whose life she had ruined years ago by covering up a medical accident. That woman lost her husband and only child, had no way to appeal, and, eventually, broken by grief, ended up in the same block of prison as Anastasia. Enemies met, and sparks flew. I wasn't surprised by the outcome. Honestly, I felt no sorrow, just calm. Grabbing my coat, I got ready to head out. Natalie was at her desk, sorting through a new case file. She looked up and smiled when she saw me. "Leaving already? This case is t

Another set of tears was streaming down on her face again. "Why? Why aren't you doing something? You manage to save the detective! Save your uncle this time!" Senior Philip shouted but Anastasia just shook her head weakly. The stab was on the chest. There's no chance of survival with that. "H-he's dead." She said while crying. Senior Philip went pale until he was only staring blankly at the lifeless body on top of him. A hand turned Anastasia and she was on Alistair arms in an instant, trying to calm her down.