Books Read Before Die Novels & Stories

… One day, I suddenly saw the news on the television. "The Jones family was murdered. None of the family members lived." My heart skipped a beat. I then saw a photo of my family on the screen. "It is reported that the murder was committed by Susan Jones, the wife of the old director of Jones Group..." None of them survived. Charles, Derek, Samantha, Jenson, and Susan—all of them died. "Mrs. Jones left a suicide note, claiming that this was done for her daughter Celine..." I could no longer process the words I heard after that.

“Sir, come on, it’s dark out. We have rules. Don’t make it hard on me.” He held onto my gravestone and didn’t want to let go. Before he left, he thought of an old story he’d heard somewhere. If two people loved each other, and one of them went first, the other could drop a single drop of blood at her grave, and they’d find each other in the next life. He’d never believed in any of that, not before tonight. He pulled a small knife out of his pocket, didn’t hesitate, and drew it across his wrist.

"Don't be afraid. Just tell them everything you know." Emma looked down at the corpse on the ground, lost in thought for a long moment. It was as if she made some kind of final decision.

“Ma’am, we can show you a photo first, so you can confirm whether it’s your daughter. It’s just… when we found her, she had been dead for three days, and the body had started to decompose. You should prepare yourself.” With that, he pulled out a photo from the scene and handed it to her. In the picture, a small, blood-soaked body—mine—was curled up on the bed in an unnatural position. My colorless lips and my sickly, bluish-purple skin told her one thing: I was dead. Mom’s eyes widened. At last, she could no longer lie to herself and burst into tears. “How could this happen? How could this be? She was fine just a few days ago. How could she be dead? Daisy, you cursed child, you’re just like

He grumbled and then he gave up resisting and crushed his heart in his own hands and went limp. Aiden is right beside me. “Mojito?” I look at Aiden. His eyes full of concern. But I smile, “It’s over.” I turn to the guards, “Please burn his body as is custom. Leave no trace of him.” Abuelo and Tio Valeno looks at me. I think they are freaked out by my calmness. “I could read your thoughts if I wanted to. But I don’t. I’m glad he is dead. Now we have to prepare for our next threat.”

A pity. “Are you even listening to me?” I lifted my eyes from the book in my hand. The Mark of Exile. It was the sequel to The Corpse in the Fog—a crime story about a man killing the lover of the woman he desperately wanted. You could say I was taking notes of very effective and interesting ways to kill Zesa’s lover. I’d had enough of him impeding my happiness.

I flipped open the pages of the book, and some words were underlined in red ink, like the dedication page. Help. Live. Die. It went on till the end of the book. I checked other books, and similar words were underlined in red ink. Save. Love. Torture. I rested against the shelf, trying to merge what I'm reading with what I've read. My brain interpreted that she died by suicide and depression. I didn't know what could have triggered it. I checked my watch. Shit. It was almost time for Chiara, to return. I was so engrossed in checking the books. I bent down to the lowest compartment as I saw a stack of papers layered on top of each other. They were old and dusty.

We have an old rule in our town. Any family with twins must choose one to make an example out of. That is the way to discipline one’s children and ensure they grow up well. Born four minutes before my brother, I became that example. When my brother snuck out to swim in the river, Mom didn’t scold him. Instead, she pressed my head into the river again and again. She finally stopped when my brother cried, yelling that he would never go to the river again. When my brother forgot to switch on the rice cooker, Mom came back home from work only to realize that the rice was still uncooked in the pot. She then served me two bowls of uncooked rice. “Finish them and don’t leave a single grain be

Giselle looked at the man not knowing why she was here. Uzair raised his hand and a book appeared. He opened it and started ready loudly. "F i r s t... l i f e. H e a l e r... n i g h t... j a s m i n e ... a n d... d i e d... i n... t h e... h a n d s... o f... w o l f... s p i r i t. S e c o n d... l i f e.

The books there were all antiques, expensive books that we had all read, some were part of our upbringing, others were relics, and others were simple history. “Alright. Let’s start planning who to kill first.” Cade said, putting down his cigarette and leaning over, his dark eyes shifting between us. “Do we know who they we?” he asked, opening his laptop. His voice was clipped, like he was trying to maintain his cool around us, even though we all felt the same and could very well understand the need to make things right again.