Dc Deadpool Novels & Stories

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.

Every move was hurting me This man was strong and ruthless. Then I saw death approaching. "You hurt my partner and now you deserve punishment." he approached Jack with his gun, who was standing and barely watching. He had been crushed by a fight. "Please dont." I began to cry inconsolably as hard as I could. With all the strength I had left. "I'll take away what you love most." he laughed and smashed my life to pieces with a thunderbolt. He killed him. He killed my future.

The linguistic scholar died. Before we could even reach the secondary stairwell, the massive, tinted glass windows of the living room shattered inward. A hail of high-velocity tactical rounds tore through the air, punching violent holes into the dark velvet couches and marble walls. Three heavily armed mercenaries, clad in matte-black tactical gear and Vance syndicate insignias, breached the shattered ledge using high-tension ziplines from an adjacent rooftop. Malakai returned fire instantly, his sidearm barking three times in rapid succession. The lead mercenary dropped hard against the broken glass, a tight cluster of crimson blooming across his chest.

Maya was in the supply room, counting soap, because apparently romance was dead but hygiene had survived and become everyone’s problem. “Bitten?” she asked. “Doesn’t look it.” “Armed?” “Knife. Bad one.” “Intent?” “Mostly desperate.” Maya put down the soap. Then Miles added, “Says his name is Dex Hartley.” For one second, the room became very still. Not outside. Outside kept being outside: wind against corrugated metal, distant dead dragging themselves through streets they no longer had appointments in, someone swearing near the water tanks because gravity remained a bastard.

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

Isabella's POV I never believed that saying about your life flashing before your eyes when you're about to die. It always seemed cliché and stupid. But everything changed when I stood face-to-face with death, and my life replayed before me, both the good and the bad. --- One Month Later Xander Diaz, known as "the Draco," was killed in a shoot-out with the police. The most dangerous man in the city was gunned down. There has been no statement from his family, and the police urged citizens to celebrate this victory, claiming peace had been restored.

The warehouse fell silent save for the dull, repetitive thud of the bat and Deather’s cold, unfeeling laughter. When he finally stopped, the lifeless body of Mr. Wong lay in a twisted heap at his feet. Deather wiped a hand across his blood-splattered face, his grin unwavering as he turned to his men. The Scarface Cartel members stood in tense silence, heads bowed, their breaths shallow and fearful. “What I did was right, isn't it Drako?” Deather said, addressing his consigliere without so much as glancing at him. Drako nodded hesitantly, his expression stoic yet wary. “Your verdict has never been wrong, Deather.”

His cries ended with a loud snap. "Follow me. Shoot at anyone I miss."Jade ordered. Before I could say anything, Jade disappeared. Only to reappear in front of one of the shooters. They didn't even let out a scream before she ripped their head off. Damn, this woman really liked to decapitate people. "You got this, Reyna," I muttered to myself. I let out a deep breath and then forced myself to move before I could retreat. Immediately someone pointed a gun at me, and I didn't hesitate to take the shot.

Vampires across the continent, connected to me, experiencing this secondhand. All of them waiting to see if their new anchor was worthy. Or if Aleksander would prove that purity mattered more than balance. I stood in the center of the amphitheater, no weapons, no armor. Just my dhampir strength and the weight of the bloodline settling on my shoulders like a physical thing. Across from me, Aleksander Draven smiled. His silver eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and his dark hair was still pulled into that severe bun. "Ready to admit you're unworthy, false queen?"

This action was unprecedented; even in their fiercest fights, she had always kept his contact saved and unblocked, unwilling to lose their call and chat histories. Bradley, concerned about Wade's condition, caught up with him. "I'll drive. I don't trust you behind the wheel right now." In his current condition, Wade would surely crash. Wade remained silent. Once they were in the car, Bradley said quietly, "You know the man too." Wade lifted his gaze. Bradley continued, "It's Chad Hockney." At that name, the forced calm Wade had achieved shattered instantly, replaced by a cold wave of terror and panic. It felt as if an invisible hand had clamped down on his windpipe, stealing his breath.