Countdown To My Death 소설 & 이야기

Names that would drag powerful people down with me if they ever saw the light. A soft beep sounded from the system. Countdown initiated. I glanced at the timer briefly, watching the numbers begin their steady descent. I picked up my gun again, checking it out of habit before turning toward the secondary tunnel hidden behind the panel to my right. The door slid open quietly. Behind me, the facility continued to unravel. In front of me, there was only darkness. I didn’t hesitate. As I stepped into the tunnel, the faint echo of distant gunshots followed me, mixing with the quiet hum of the countdown ticking closer and closer to zero.

Her vision flung from the door and the paper which's ink was blotting on its own to form a new text. "Cassandra, open it. You're in the year 2022." Says the text. "What...?" "I'm harmless." Again, says the text. Cassandra, as if in trance begins to inch for the letter. She opens it and it said, "You have to save this family from the God of Death. You have only one year to save all of them dying in a chronological order. Zayn and you shall die first, by car accident." Her gasp was loud and made everyone outside the door consider breaking it open.

His voice—Diego’s—echoed through my skull like a whisper wrapped in steel. “One month left. Clock’s ticking.” I turned off the lamp. Closed my eyes. But sleep never came. Only the countdown. And the certainty that failure meant death.

I could hurt his perfectly sculpted face. "Come on, sweetie. Put the glass down. You don't want to die, do you?" he looked at me calmly. "If you want to live, you will put the glass down, go to the bathroom and get ready to land. If not, my people will kill you in a few minutes. So ... you have to decide. The cards are in your hands, baby. What choice will you make? " Damn it. He was good at convincing. And he was right. If I hurt or even killed him, his people would kill me.

His voice was getting frantic. Duke was not moving; his eyes were shut and his skin glistened with the first drops of rain that had come with the rumbling sky. “Duke!” Tim screamed. He had felt the panic in Jason’s voice and young as he was, he understood what that meant. Jack stood by the side, tears glimmering in his eyes. It seemed the boy had already given up on life before it started. “He is dead, is he not?” he asked.

A shadow that will become a light. And as I look up at the clock, I know that the start of the countdown has begun. Not the countdown of staring death in the eyes, but the countdown until he is going to open his eyes. And believe me, once he does, I am punching him in the fucking face for scaring the shit out of me.

“This enemy isn’t like Richard. They’re smarter. They’ve been watching since the beginning.” A chill moved through me. “Since my first life?” “Maybe longer.” Before I could respond, the screen flickered. A new message appeared. COUNTDOWN: 24 HOURS CHOOSE WHO LIVES. CHOOSE WHO DIES. My heart stopped. “A trap,” I whispered. Alex stepped in front of me instinctively, protective to his core. “No one chooses for us,” he said coldly. “Especially not this coward.” But the choice already felt like a blade pressed to my throat.

No one came to save me. As I stared at the countdown on the bomb, I tried to scream again, but no sound came out. That devastated me even more. I was about to die, and I couldn’t even make a sound. My mind went blank as I waited for death. But one thing was certain, I hated Dante Blackwell. If I truly died this time, I would hate him with my last breath and resent him even in hell. “Seems this is where we end, Dante Blackwell,” I mumbled as the bomb reached its final countdown. Then everything went down in flames. Boom!

The call hung up after two seconds. After that, she tried video calling me, but the call also hung up after two seconds. As such, she had no choice but to continue messaging me. She wrote, "Didn't we agree to meet outside the civil office, Chad? Why aren't you here yet?" There was a reply to her message, "I said I wanted three million, but you only gave me five hundred thousand. Do you think that's enough to convince me? I won't divorce you until I get three million."

To make up for it, he turned back and repeated a promise. "I'll definitely go to the old house to see you tomorrow." The next day, he broke his promise anyway. I sat on the couch in the old house, looking at my phone. Twelve hours left. A local news alert popped up. Kayla had appeared at a new project launch, with Lawrence standing behind her. Thinking about the promise he had made yesterday, I let out a self-deprecating smile. If he knew these were the last 12 hours with me, would he still break his promise?