Best Gore Dead Woman Novels & Stories

BRENDA WILSON. Giordana. "Hi, I'm Brenda Wilson." I turned in the direction of the voice. A tall, slim, model-like lady stood before me. She wore a dress that had a deep v-cut neckline exposing an ample amount of cleavage, the dress was very short and barely reached her mid-thighs. Her lips were painted blood red and her eyes were smokey. Well, she was definitely beautiful but something seemed off about her. Her smile was fake.

Kelvin disconnected me from the life-support machine, and I felt my strength ebbing away. "I can't die now, please give me a second chance," I whispered, my voice barely audible through the agony that wracked my body. Tears streamed down my face as I pleaded with fate to spare my life. Kelvin's face twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes gleaming with a sinister pleasure. "Goodbye, dear wife," he sneered. "See you never again." His voice was laced with disdain and satisfaction, and I knew I was staring into the face of pure evil.

Stop calling me a young lady," Sarah said to him while following him from behind. Once they arrived at the front door of the party room, the two doorkeepers greeted them politely before opening the door for them to get in. Once they got in, the whole hall became quiet immediately as everyone kept on staring at Sarah in awe. It was at the same moment that Richard noticed how sexy and revealing Sarah's gown was. Sighing heavily, he leaned towards her a little bit and whispered to her, "Tell me you didn't wear this gown on purpose. "Yes, I did; I'm here to traumatize my foes," Sarah said to Richard with a wicked smirk. "Ooh, my goodness," Richard muttered inwardly.

She looked at me and I shook my head and closed my eyes. Until the crying, begging and the screaming stopped. I looked at them and I saw the girl with her shorts down and her shirt up no longer moving. Her eyes are open and still facing me. She is dead. They killed her and it is just nothing to them. POOR GIRL.

She was there, standing on the floor at the other end of the room, her body ensconced in a small white silken robe, the creamy skin on those long thighs and legs giving a clue of what laid within. She had gotten sexier and hotter since the time money wasn’t an issue anymore and she could get all the beauty treatments she wanted. She’s getting more cash from her druglord now, too, and she couldn’t get any hotter, her hair long ang lustrious, her face unmarred with any flaw or make up when she turned to me.

“This is the fourth time. There must be something wrong. Shall I answer when she calls again?” Dom closed his eyes. For a moment, he let himself feel everything he never allowed himself to feel—grief, shock, fury, longing, heartbreak, awe. His wife—his lost wife—was alive. She was brilliant. Untouchable. She was reborn. And she looked at him like he was nothing more than a shadow at the back of the room. She looked at him with her eyes not giving him anything. He opened his eyes, chest caving. “Answer it,” he rasped as he stared towards the cameras the audience are pointing at her.

Lorey explained in panic. Kaspar edged closer to the bed and peered at the skeleton woman lying on the bed. The scent of death drifted through his nostrils. A grin curled up in the corner of his mouth. He picked up Clarice's fragile hand to check her internal condition. Unable to detect any pulse and noticing no movement on her chest, he smiled victoriously. "She's dead finally!" he declared in a loud tone. "Nooooooooo!" Lorey cried in a wretched tone. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn't accept that her mistress died of heartbreak and poison.

He almost jumped from happiness. There was a woman with an extremely hot body standing in front of him. Her lips were bright red and she was wearing a thin lacy black dress. She was eating fresh grapes. This woman looked like she was in her 30s. She had an imposing air around her and looked alluring. However, he understood that he could never get her. No one was able to handle this woman. She was the woman in charge of the Beauty Killers. She was a sinister beauty. One had to be alert whenever one was around her. If not, they would not even know how they died.

It has long-bloody-red-hair, a coattail that painted all the blood of its victim, a pointed-dark-red-boots, and eyes that compared to the dark side of the moon. The wind blow and the second thing that the man knows is that his girl was snatched away from him. His drunk mind is drowned on the finest wine of Don Paulo, yet the next thing he knows he is one of the prime suspects who killed Lady Grendaile of Don Paulo Cabaret. Same as all the other ladies who were killed, Lady Grendaile is missing her uterus and ovaries; her heart is crushed drowning in the drain in the 3rd-green-alley-lane of Glaslough.

The dress showcased her shapely figure, making her look solemn and a bit seductive. The woman had her hair up, revealing a graceful, snow-white neck adorned with a dazzling diamond necklace. Her presence was captivating. This woman was none other than the heiress of the Gore family, Yvonne Gore, who had clashed with Logan previously. Yvonne appeared genuinely sorrowful as she was truly heartbroken. She and Mons shared a deep connection, and their relationship was ambiguous. Carrying a bouquet of flowers, Yvonne entered the villa and placed them in front of Mons' casket.