Character Dead Cells Novels & Stories

He doubles over, and I take the opportunity to land an elbow to the back of his neck making him drop to the floor. “Are you ready to die like your friend?” I ask. “Fuck you bitch. You can’t win against our army. Scàthach will triumph and you will all die.” “Ew, can we not do the villain monologue? It’s so annoying and cliché.” I say before I extend my claws and rip his heart out through his back. That was seriously badass and gross, all at the same time. Hey, he’s dead, his friend is dead, and Wyatt is dead. That’s all that matters.

“Did you really think I’d just let you come in here without having a plan?” He snaps his fingers, and something moves in the shadows of the greenhouse. Several figures shuffle forward. The smell of rotting flesh and blood makes me gag. Kell and I gasp in horror when the faces of the figures are revealed. Their faces are rotting, their eyes are black pools, and there are large holes in the center of their chests where their hearts should be. It’s the murdered girls. All of them. They’re decaying bodies stumble clumsily towards us. The smell of death becomes stronger the closer they get. I cover my mouth, trying to stifle my horrified cry. They look like the kind of zombies you see in the Walk

Her knuckles turned white. They were all there waiting for her. Mama Metcalf and her busted open head, dripping gray matter down the folds of her scrubs. Jordan’s face over her shoulder, his dimples as prominent in death as they were in life. The thing that used to be Robby slithered at their feet, its wide toothy smile was just for her. Mykel lurched across the lot in blind arcs, spurting gore as he went from where his head and spine were not so long ago housed. Her parents were there too, each with their matching heart-attack guts swinging before them, stinking of the earth they were buried in. They weren’t alone. The knockers at her door were there by the thousands, dribbling over one ano

The eyes of the Rank 6 Celestial Honorable Ranked Undead Spirit Family were glittering with pleading. "Spare your life?" Lucas smiled. "You think that's possible?" Then, Lucas slashed with his sword. Following that slash from Lucas, the Rank 6 Celestial Honorable Ranked Undead Spirit Family was dead for good. In a battle, one should often use all sorts of techniques to cheat on your opponent. 'Humans, Dark Races, zombies or demons, the same applies for them all as well.'

And two children who were never meant to exist. In his study, Mr. White opened a final file: "WARNING: GENETIC DEGRADATION ACCELERATING SUBJECTS C.W. AND P.K. SHOWING SIGNS OF CELLULAR COLLAPSE TIME REMAINING UNTIL COMPLETE SYSTEM FAILURE: 48 HOURS" The game wasn't about inheritance anymore. It was about survival.

"Arghhhhhh! You motherfucking...arghh!" His cries echoed in the empty warehouse, the pain was unbearable. A kind of slow death that would make you feel the pain and perceive the stench of your own body rotting. "This chemical will slowly corrode your body, it'll slowly travel through your veins to every part of your body rotting you up from the inside out. You asked for death but I assure you, you won't die, you'll be fully alive and your eyes will be open as you decay away and become mangled flesh, but even then you still won't die. Your heart will continue to beat and your brain will continue to function, you will live a long enough life but as nothing but a wasted living corpse."

With Talon grumbling under his breath about how things were not fair, Zedekiel led the way forward, pushing open the iron doors to the necromancer’s cell. The necromancer’s cell was a pit of horrors. The walls were streaked with dried blood, deep claw marks gouged into the stone as if something had tried—and failed—to escape. The floor was slick with filth, a mixture of old blood, rotting flesh, and the acrid stench of burnt skin. The air was thick, suffocating, heavy with decay and suffering. In the dim light of the few light pearls embedded into the walls, something wriggled in the corner. Huddled there, the necromancer groaned pitifully, his body a mangled wreck of charred skin and twist

One of his legs is useless, but he’s still swinging the shard like a man who doesn’t plan to die politely. Another door groans open ahead. Kael doesn’t hesitate; he slams through the following passage like a storm, and I stagger after him, breath ragged. The corridor beyond the cell isn’t a hallway anymore. It’s a tomb. Bodies slump against the walls, nailed in place with rusted spikes. Some are priests, some are guards, and some are too ruined to name. Skulls cracked open, ribs shattered, and flesh peeled back like old leather. The rot thickens here, sweetened by old magic that has gone wrong.

Assets = people. Then, on the circled page, two lines. Jin Kwon — reacted to DECAY as a charge, not a rumor. Classified by Marcus on sight. Marcus asked: what lab. And under it: LUS narrates the dead freely. Goes silent only on the living. Torres. Jin. She underlines the last one. The room is colder after she writes it. Outside, the base keeps being alive. A door eases shut. VIBE murmurs. The gate holds in the dark.

"No living creature crosses into the Hollow Court and comes back the same. If they come back at all." "I'm not asking to come back the same." I looked down at Cella's face, pale and still against the pillow, her silver hair spread out like something already being mourned. "I'm asking to come back with her." I left before Mira could argue further. There was nothing she could say that would matter. I had already decided this the moment Kael's knife found her chest. I had simply needed three days to accept what deciding it would cost.