Back From The Dead Novels & Stories

He didn’t push. “Can I ask you a question?” I asked once I had the courage to speak. He nodded. “What happened after you died? Did you feel anything?” He paused, contemplating his answer. “The woman who brought me back said I must have been dead for at least a day or two before she found me. But I don’t remember anything of my death… just woke up under six feet of dirt and I had to claw and fight my way out. She said it was your magic that allowed me to come back.”

“Yes.” “You made them afraid of us.” “Yes.” Her voice broke. “Because of me?” “No.” Evander stepped toward her. “Because of me.” Liora recoiled. Mason felt sick. Evander continued. “You were the first person restored from death.” Claire whispered, “And she came back whole.” Evander looked at her. “At first.” Liora froze. Evander’s eyes filled with tears. “Then you started hearing them.” “Hearing who?” “The dead.”

In them, Hank faked his demise, absconding with our fortune and dooming the company to bankruptcy. Elena and I endured collector torment. I succumbed to the abyss, ending it all, and Elena crossed paths with Hank, who was back from the dead. I'd assumed, despite ditching me, he'd spare his daughter some mercy. But no. He stood idle as Laura's goons dispatched her, not deigning a glance at her broken form. The visions looped for a fortnight until the fake-death date crystallized in my subconscious. Two months remained. I called my brother home, tasking him with a covert donation: 20 integrated incinerators to various crematoriums.

"Melissa, are you awake?" came Sienna Riggs's annoying voice in the middle of the night. I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or actually awake. I fumbled around my pillow until I found my phone. When I turned it on and saw the date on the screen, I became certain that I had been reborn. Outside my bed curtain, Sienna was not giving up when I didn't answer her. Instead, she kept calling my name. However, I simply turned off my phone, put in my earbuds, and closed my eyes.

“Dax…” “My heart stopped,” he continued. “My current collapsed. However, Valerio, and Asher refused to let me remain dead, so they used another rite to drag me back. A revival ritual meant for battlefield heirs, but not for someone carrying that much corrupted backlash. They forced life back into me, and it worked, but it took payment from them instead.” I understood before he said it. “Valerio.”

"Marshall, these people are covered in blood. It's disgusting. Have someone get rid of them already. I don't want my golf course delayed." "Marshall, I dare you…" I hissed. The words came out hoarse and weak, but my eyes stayed locked on him. Marshall finally stopped and looked at me again. This time, recognition hit. "Tiffany? Is that you? You're still alive? I thought you'd died years ago." "My family treated you well," I growled, my voice raw. "This is how you repay us?" I pointed at the flattened graves behind me. Marshall let out a short laugh. "Give me a break. Everything I have, I earned myself. What does your family have to do with it? You vanished for seven years. Now you come back,

After the SAT results come out, the girl everyone knows as the school's scholarship case throws a lavish graduation party. That same night, I get a text alert saying my credit card has been maxed out. I go to confront her, but she's already in my boyfriend's arms, sobbing like she's the victim. "Just because I'm on financial aid, I'm not allowed to throw a party?" My boyfriend rushes to comfort her and turns on me instead. "Your family's loaded anyway. Spending a little on Lacey isn't going to kill you." Sure, my family has money, but I'm not a saint, and I don't see why I should be footing her bills. I refuse to back down. I call the police to make her pay me back, but my boyfriend re

“You risked everything you built to keep me breathing in that basement. I told you last night that I came back for my empire… but that was a lie.” My heart stopped in my chest. “What do you mean?” Tristan leaned up, his forehead resting gently against mine, his breath hot against my lips. “I came back for you.” Before I could answer, the secure satellite phone in his pocket began to vibrate furiously. The sharp, mechanical buzz broke the intimate spell hanging between us. Tristan closed his eyes briefly, drawing in a long, controlled breath before pulling the phone out. He clicked the speaker button. “Vance, report,” Tristan commanded, though his eyes never left mine.

Shaking, she picked it up. The date made her knees give out. She collapsed to the cold tiles. **MAY 12, 2023.** Three years before. Three years before the outbreak. Before the world ended on August 9, 2026. "Oh my god," she whispered. She died. She remembered dying. Ethan holding her as the horde came. White light swallowing the bridge. And now she was back. Reborn. Before the apocalypse. Second chance.

I called, tightening my grip on the edge of the console. Through the heavy static came a distorted sound. It wasn't the roar of the storm, but the sharp, rapid PFFT-PFFT-PFFT of Adrian's suppressed submachine gun, followed by a sickening, wet impact. Then came a sound I recognized all too well: a human voice breaking into a ragged, choking scream before abruptly dissolving into a gurgling rasp. "Adrian, report!" I demanded into the mic. "—spores... hit the street..." His voice flickered through the static, weak and heavily distorted. "They... collapsed... ten seconds after exposure... don't open the lower... krrrrzzzt..."