Best Gore Dead Woman Novels & Stories

This woman was extremely slim and beautiful, giving off a seductive aura. But if you looked carefully, you would find the woman very cold. She had no breath of living, like a zombie. Especially her eyes. Although her eyes were full of Grim Reaper, deep in them, the desire for blood was chilling. "This fellow's vigor is powerful. If it is used to make wine, it will definitely be a great tonic!" Another rough voice sounded from within another gate. As the voice sounded, a fat man with a big wine gourd on his back and a red face, like a drunk man, came out with a fat belly.

Dolores felt exceptionally exhausted because of the enormous information roaming in her brain, the clash with the ghost, the book in the white room, made her fall into a deep slumber. 𝑰𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎, When the female ghost wandered into Sadie's room, she saw that Sadie fell asleep leaning on Marcel's shoulder. Looking at the scene, the ghost was reminded of her time with her master, yes, she was a maid of the Laurent family called Gwen who fell in love with her master Andrew Laurent.

“Tyler is okay. A little shook up, but okay. He’s at the resort with Riana and the girls. Ruiz, Allan and your parents are here. They are waiting outside.” She nodded, tears running down her temples. She lay there staring up at him, her face void of emotion except for the tears that fell. Reno wasn’t sure what to do or say, so he just stared back. “Georgia is dead,” she stated with a deadpan voice. Reno nodded. He already knew that. It was her pool of blood he had been laying in. He’d been told her body had been there for a few hours, naked with her throat slit from ear to ear. She’d been killed in one of the guestrooms apparently after having sex with Pierre. He didn’t say that to Loraine t

It tries to send the memory through her knees, her hands, her throat. Maya lets it arrive. Then she steps left. The dead follow sound and motion. They do not think. They do not plan. They do not fake low and attack high. They are patient appetite in a ruined suit. “Behind?” she whispers. Clear within twenty feet, LUS says. “Lovely.” The dead man reaches. Maya lets him commit, shifts inside the arc, hooks her foot behind his ankle, and drives the crowbar hard into the side of his knee.

Taking a life was the ultimate orgasm. The heavy clumping of the woman’s platform shoes echoed through the garage as she trudged toward the elevator, her hard day finally drawing to an end. Weber surged quickly behind her, a shadow sprung from the shadows, his rubber-soled shoes making no sound on the smooth cement as he closed the distance between them. With a smooth, practiced motion, taught to him many years before by his Uncle Sam, his left arm clamped around her throat, shutting off her windpipe and any scream, while his right hand guided the knife up through her back into her heart. She slumped against him, dying without ever knowing he was there.

Shaun exclaimed, hand over her mouth. The door was partially blocked, and they discovered why when Jozef gave the door an extra hard shove. A dead woman lay face-down on the floor. The back of her head was such a mess of blood and bone that Shaun didn't bother to check for a pulse. Jozef rolled her over, and another shock revealed the woman as Giselle, a frequent customer of the club below and the woman who had pined after Jozef. Shaun felt a wave of pity for the woman, erasing any negative feelings she'd had toward Giselle's jealous, petty nature. She'd been too young, too vivacious to die this horribly on the floor of an apartment.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Officer Will took the call with sorrow. Grim Marie had taken her own life. She was found in the bath with expensive-smelling bubbles and a candle. She had used a razor. He wished this hadn’t surprised him. His heart felt heavy, but he tried to convince himself that at least she was at peace now, enfolded in the arms of her mother and her daughter. A third little urn lined up on the shelf, perhaps. At least the pain and misery of her hunt for The Wolf was over.

Although the desert nights were bitterly cold, I liked working late in the temporary lab. There was nothing but the soft scraping of the restoration blade against wood and the sound of my own steady breathing. Until that night, everything changed. Gunshots tore through the silence just as I was using a cotton swab to clean the last patch of residue from the edge of the coffin. Luca lowered his voice, and the light in his eyes was colder than I had ever seen. "This isn't a robbery. They're here for you."

No remorse nor mercy at all. Vulpina's eyes were wide with disbelief and rage. She let out some death rattles. She could not believe she was killed by someone who just did it so… absent-mindedly. The most powerful member of the Gore family was gone. And so soon after making her debut! The reason? She challenged Logan. The Gorex felt more than just crushing grief. They could not possibly avenge her death at all. They had lost their most powerful member and protector. There was no way they could do anything against Logan now.

I ignored her and instructed the servants to escort the old woman to her chambers to rest. I knew perfectly well what she really meant. In seven days, the death-feigning potion would wear off and Stellan would come back to life. When that happened, he would not let me get away with it. However, that was fine. I was not going to give him the chance. In this life, Stellan Montclair was going to stay exactly what he was—a dead man in a crypt. "Mother." Ansel tilted his head up to look at me, reaching out with a small hand to tug at my sleeve.