As Good As Dead Novels & Stories

Kira’s POV "Dead, huh? I really wanted to kill him, this is sad, how's he dead?" I asked with a chuckle, staring down at the lifeless corpse sprawled across the obsidian floor like discarded meat. His mouth was still twisted in that final scream... eyes wide, soul gone. Ash’s arm curled tightly around my waist, steady and warm against my trembling frame. His touch grounded me, tethered me, because goddess help me… I was one second away from burning the entire body into dust. Slowly. Painfully. Piece by cursed piece.

" look. He turned towards the stage and The principal started her address. The whole address thing was a blur since I was wondering why he called me a Zombie? Did I look that bad? I was getting anxious. I slowly whispered to Becky.' He called me a Zombie'. But she couldn't hear me, so I texted her. Becky: Whatttt???? Angry emoji. June: Do I look bad? Becky: Don't kid yourself, I think he is blind!

The whole scene was giving me a sense of Deja Vu but I completely dismissed it as I tried to calm my nerves. Asmodeus’s presence allowed me to calm down a bit and yes I know him and I are not on the greatest of terms but they is a saying that goes a devil I know is better than the devil I don’t know and in this case I know Asmodeus not the new devil going by the name Odeus. “I…I died , Asmodeus I died…how I’m I even alive ? Are you dead? Are we dead ? Are we in hell? Is he…is he the devil?”

"She couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. When I saw that... it scared me... I wanted to call a doctor, an ambulance, someone to help. She called me over, to-told me to sit down and listen carefully. She said she wanted me to promise her something before she goes..." Damien let out a sigh and wiped his tears. Ashleigh could feel tears building up in her eyes too. "She said I should promise to move on and continue being a good man... promise to live life to the fullest and not let anything stop me from doing so... be it sickness, be it poverty, be it loss, I should take it all as it comes. "I promised her I would then she... sh-she closed her eyes a-a-and that was it. She just... died...

The kindness of this stranger nearly broke her. “I . . . I’m not worth it,” she said, and her face crumbled, and her skin crawled, and her hair was matted and she had just endured some of the worst hours of her life, listening to this mad man grunt and groan and howl as he ripped at her skin and bit at her breast. She was glad Aleta was dead. She was glad of it. Because if she had lived with these memories in her head . . . The hunter’s shine from earlier melted and turned into tears, which ran down her cheeks and dropped onto the freshly polished floor.

(Baba talk say dem drop am- the man said they dropped them yesterday) I didn't see any gun talk more of gunsss. It's official, I'm dead."I didn't see any gun when I got in here." I answered looking obviously confused. "What do you mean you didn't see any g...!!" Ayo said to me as his voice raised with every word, a voice cut him off. Thank the almighty. I turn to face the speaker, it was the short looking man. "It's okay" He said that with a lot of command in his voice. Looking at his face I realised he looks older than every one of them. Good thing, they have a responsible leader.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I don’t know how long I sat there staring at that damn screen after it went dark. Maybe a minute, maybe ten. My brain just… couldn’t process it. Dead. The word looped through my head over and over, echoing like a broken record. Dead? How could I be dead? I could feel my heartbeat. I could breathe, my chest rising and falling, air filling my lungs. My palms were sweaty, my muscles ached from being thrown — dead people didn’t feel all that, right?

Needed something good in world of death and darkness. Even if it was just comfortable lie. From mother who had become very good at lying. Very good at killing. Very good at everything except being human. Three weeks until war. Until eight deaths. Until everything changed. If Damien survived—we faced it together. If he died—I faced it alone. Either way—I faced it. Because that is what Ashfords do. We face death. We create death. We are death. And somewhere—in the darkness—our enemies were planning. Preparing. Coming.

Press it lightly against my chest. There it is. That second pulse. Not painful this time. Not sharp. Just… there. Steady. Present. Like something alive. I frown slightly. My fingers press a little more. It doesn’t go away. Draven is dead. The thought comes quietly. Not as loud as before. Not as sharp. Just… there. He’s dead. I swallow. My throat feels tight. You said it yourself. You accepted it. My fingers curl slightly against my shirt.

No one had ever looked at her the way Asher was looking at her now—like she was worth avenging. He exhaled slowly, his thumb ghosting over her lips before he pressed a soft kiss to her temple. "They should have killed you when they had the chance." His voice was eerily calm now, dangerous in its certainty. Elena stiffened."Asher—" Then, in a voice that made the air around them feel heavier, he uttered two words that sent chills down Elena’s spine. "They’re dead."