Countdown To My Death Novels & Stories

Just two words, and a single line beneath them. OLD MAN: Did she sign yet? I looked down at my wrist. The countdown had begun to tick again, quietly, patiently, ten months and twenty-eight days, and I understood that the person who wanted me dead had nothing to do with the two I had just survived.

No matter the circumstances and odds against me, I am always ready to fight until death. And let me remind you that I have slain many soldiers, knights, monsters, and beasts. Don't forget how I single-handedly killed ten vicious players. I might not know the power of the Smith or anything about the so-called nectar that General Zod and the familiar voice are requesting from me. However, I am sure of one thing. I am sure that I won't die because "Tomorrow Never Dies."

he continued, "the eight minute mark is the period in which death flashes before your eyes; when the time is up or eight minutes has passed, you are physically declared deceased. Nothing is able to bring you back, unless in such a case as this, it's a miracle!" "Well I'm glad you think so; I couldn't imagine what I'd do without her," she then whispered, "Brit & Tom would be so angry." The dad nodded at her words. "Hm? Did you say something?" The doctor asked. The mom shook her head and I exited the scene; I've already wasted too much time here, but being in this plane sped time up. I looked at Thanatos and he said nothing, only giving me a knowing nod. I returned to my kingdom and walked int

and getting a complete head-to-toe make-over in the middle of it all. I text our room number to Zeke, and Mary Sue settles onto the bed and turns on the T.V. while we wait. I can’t settle for anything so mundane—I’m too hyped up, so instead I pace across the room, counting down the seconds until our mark arrives. Every pore, every nerve in my body is tingling with anticipation. My oldest, dearest friend, Death, is just around the corner. Soon—oh, so soon—I will be taking the knife from my purse and plunging it deep, deep into soft, moist flesh. The tension of knowing a cathartic release is coming . . . I tell you, it’s better than sex.

“A… April 26th.” Underneath was something that seemed like a timer counting down. I squeezed the sheets, my eyes fluttering closed. April 26th? How could I forget the day I died? My heart sank inside my chest. The wedding was going to happen in three days. Does this mean that my fate has been sealed? And I would still be murdered? *** I watched as the sun came up the next day because I couldn’t sleep. What if I found someone else entirely? I sprang up. The world tilted for a moment from the sudden movement.

I waited until it was close to midnight—I had three minutes to go. I started thinking back on my life, but it was too simple and plain. There didn't seem to be much to remember. My life had been a tragedy from the moment I was born. The minutes turned to seconds, and I slumped onto the table. I had my urn and photo beside me. Five, four, three, two, one… The countdown ended, and a dead silence descended upon me. The room went silent—even the sound of my breathing disappeared. At the same time, I heard the sound of the doorknob turning. Someone was back!

The metal groaned under his weight. "Sierra! Jump!" he shouted up, his voice echoing in the shaft. I glanced at the countdown on my smartwatch—it synced with the building's mainframe: 1:15. Hesitate and we died. Miss the cable and I'd plummet to my own death. My hands were slick with sweat. I wiped them on my torn skirt, sucked down a breath laced with adrenaline, and stepped out into nothing.

I wrote about how I had given up a billion-dollar cash reward, and how I had drained every last luck point from my own system account to exchange for the chance for her to stand again after the car accident that had paralyzed both her legs. After finishing the letter, I packed all our old photos into a cardboard box and erased the last traces of my life in this house. [Death countdown: 10, 9, 8...] The countdown entered its final ten seconds. I fell onto the carpet beside the sofa. It felt as though my organs were being shredded by countless blades. My face remained cold as I endured the agony. I vomited mouthful after mouthful of black blood, instantly staining the pure white carpet Victori

Then the voice answered. “Who dies next?” The call ended. Every muscle in my body locked. The room felt colder after the line went dead. Zariah watched me carefully, her face pale but her expression steady. She was scared. Anyone with sense would be. But she didn’t look away. “What happened?” she asked. I didn’t answer immediately because I knew what the countdown meant now. It wasn’t counting time. It was counting people. Someone was crossing names off a list, and we didn’t know who was on it.

[Host has suffered catastrophic injustice: deprivation of dignity and theft of achievement. [Current unfairness count: 3/3.] [Judgment confirmed. Death program initiating.] [Brain-death countdown: 10 minutes.]