Carl Died On Walking Dead

When I was four months pregnant, my fiance, who was a doctor, left me hanging when we were supposed to get married. This was not the first time; this was the sixteenth time. The first time, his nurse fainted at the sight of blood during an operation, and I waited for him for an entire day at the city hall. The second time, his nurse called, and he left me behind on a viaduct to buy daily necessities for her. Whenever we were about to get married, his nurse would call him for all sorts of problems. The final time was when he told me he was sick. Despite the rain, I rushed to the hospital, only to find that it was his nurse who was sick. He stayed by her side to care for her while he lied to me without batting an eye. At that moment, I began to hate him. I aborted our baby and left. But he chased after me and even traveled out of the country just to apologize.

“I never wanted you or our daughter.” For five years, I pretended to be in a happy marriage with Andrew Morgan. I left my career to be with this billionaire bachelor to raise a family with him. A family that he never wanted. Of course, I should have known that his heart is still with Eleanor Walsh. Why else would he come chasing after her after she abandoned him for years? I was blind with love, and now my daughter and I are paying the price. “I need you here with me now,” I said. “Our daughter is in danger.” “Eleanor and Lottie need me more!” Andrew snapped. I begged. I cried. None of that mattered to Andrew. Even then, I had hope. I had love. But all of that changed when I found myself alone, with my dead daughter in my arms. “You can spend all your time with Eleanor and Lottie,” I spat at him. “We’re going to be divorced soon!” Andrew caught me by the wrist and stopped me. “You’re not going anywhere. Who said I agreed to the divorce?”

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

Six years into their marriage, Elara knew that her husband Damien had never loved her. In his eyes, Elara was just a scheming woman who went to great lengths to marry him. Damien hated Elara,so he didn't love their daughter. Their daughter had heart disease, and when she was critically ill, lying in the hospital waiting for her father's last visit, her father was spending time with his ex-girlfriend's dog on its birthday. The daughter cried and asked, 'Mommy, does Daddy not love me?' Elara couldn't bear to tell her daughter that it wasn't that her dad didn't like her; he didn't like her mom, so he didn't even like her daughter by extension. After their daughter's death, Elara decided to let Damien be with his ex-girlfriend but Damien wouldn't agree...

When my husband accompanies his childhood sweetheart to the vet to treat her pet fish, my son accidentally spills his drink on her. My husband watches as his childhood sweetheart's eyes redden. Then, he slaps my son hard and throws a stack of cash at him. "This is your chance to make up for your mistakes. Buy Wendy a dress—make sure it's white!" My son dries his tears while holding onto the money. He roams the streets, searching for a white dress in the middle of the night. When he finally finds one, he ends up getting beaten to death by some drunk hooligans. Even in death, he clutches the bloodied skirt tightly. I burst into tears of despair as I hold onto his body and call my husband over a dozen times. However, he's too busy with his childhood sweetheart's fish. He blocks my number. When he finally calls me back, he sounds icy and angry. "Wendy is still waiting for that dress! Where has the little brat gone to? Can't he even handle such a simple task?"

The day we were meant to be mated, my Alpha, Ford, was ambushed. Silver bullets shredded his car, sending it plunging off a bridge and into the river below. He was pronounced dead. Drowned. I was left pregnant with his heir, shattered by the raw agony of our severed mate bond. Then Ford's twin, Aiden, returned from abroad with his mate, Kyra. His identical face and a scent so similar to my mate's nearly drove me mad. A desperate part of me swore Ford was still alive. I told myself it was just grief. A widow's delusion. Until I overheard a hushed conversation and the horrifying truth slammed into me: the man pretending to be Aiden was Ford. He had faked his death. He'd let his own brother die in his place, all for Kyra—the other woman carrying his child. The grief that had crippled me instantly morphed into a cold, sharp rage. Ford didn't just break our bond; he shattered it. And I would make him pay. I wiped my tears and sent a single message to my brother, Billy, the Alpha of the Winterstone Pack. "Brother, I need a plane crash. He loves faking his death? Fine. Let him feel what it's like to truly lose a mate." Only when the news of my "death" spread did Ford reclaim his name. He knelt for seven days and nights in the ashes of the home we once shared, consumed by a grief of his own making.

There are monsters in this world. And they used to be us. Now it's time to euthanize to survive in a hospice where Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. Post-infection Chicago. Christmas. Inside The Hospice, Emily and her fellow nurses do their rounds. Here, men and women live out their final days in comfort, segregated from society, and are then humanely terminated before fate turns them into marrow-craving monsters known as ‘Smilers.’ Outside these imposing walls, rabid protesters swarm with signs, caught up in the heat of their hatred. Emily, a woman haunted by her past, only wants to do her job and be the best mother possible. But in a world where mortality means nothing, where guns are drawn in fear and nobody seems safe anymore – at what cost will this pursuit come? And through it all, the soon to be dead remain silent, ever smiling. Such is their curse. It won't be long before that snow-speckled ground will be salted by blood. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

Camila thought she'd hit rock bottom when she discovered her husband's infidelity with her own cousin, but that devastating betrayal turned out to be only the beginning - a life-altering accident would soon strip her of her very identity. But when she was forced to fake her own death and assume a new identity, she realized she had been accidentally given a second chance. This new life came with a new discovery that Camila, the once shameful and disgraceful wife of the powerful Miller family, turned out to be a force to be reckoned with, a rival worthy of respect, and a woman not to be underestimated. Not even her husband stood a chance.

I hated the heroine. Now I am her. When nineteen-year-old Ashley slips in the bathroom and dies with popcorn in her hair and a love letter unsent, she wakes up inside the worst romance novel she’s ever read as Arianna Salvatore, the pathetic, weepy female lead she couldn’t stand. The catch? Everyone thinks she faked a suicide attempt to win back Damian, her cruel, emotionally unavailable husband. And her sister? She’s gunning for him next. Ashley wants out. But the book has other plans and if she’s going to survive this twisted love triangle, she’ll have to rewrite the story herself. Goodbye, tragic heroine. Hello, chaos.