Dead Man Review Novels & Stories

“Every detail he chose for you is flawless.” I was about to reply when the news anchor’s voice from the TV in the studio caught my attention. “We interrupt with breaking international news. Chicago mob boss Axel Thorne was murdered late last night on his private dock. The killer has been identified as his former mistress, Seraphina Croix. Both fell to their deaths in the Chicago River…” I froze.

My death would already devastate her. I didn't want her to see me in this state, but I no longer had a physical body. All I could do was watch helplessly as the butler made the call. Soon, accompanied by the screech of brakes, Sarah stumbled into the room. I watched as her face filled with terror. "Melinda! My dear Melinda!" She cried out and rushed toward me. However, I was already a cold corpse. All I could do was watch as she collapsed beside me, her trembling hands reaching out to touch my disfigured face.

A third cup lay on its side, coffee splattered over the table, and drizzling to the floor. I gasped as I watched the stream of coffee. A man in a black uniform lay sprawled on the tile, blood pooling around him. He was most definitely dead with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Holy hell! He was a guard here. His badge read Jon Sanders. I couldn't look at him any longer. He was dead. I couldn't imagine Thomas or Derek doing something like that, but that meant the maniac squad was definitely up here. Shit.

And I can call Uber or a taxi for my safe journey. -" I mean not your first time but...." It became awkward, a big man with tattoos on his skin who looked like a killer was struggling in talking with me, a young girl. It was a little bit funny. -"Manny it is ok just finish it," I said to him and looked through the window into the dark night. I stopped to breathe when a car went by a street and lighten a person standing near the door of a tattoo shop. Jack, he is here. He was dressed all in black. His long hair was a mess, which was laying on his shoulders and his eyes black as tar. His face is cold as ice. and his gaze burning with fury into me and Manny. I was half-naked with a man doing m

He gave me a sad smile as he tucked a stray hair on my ear. “Well, I am already upset. What is there to lose?” I crossed my arms as if saying ‘I’m waiting.’ “Okay.” He said in defeat. “It’s about this morning's news.” He glanced briefly at my blank face before continuing. “It says that three men were ground to the bones inside the meat shop in Hill Street. And…and one of those three men was my friend, Caleb.” He finished panting, like the thought of his friend being dead is consuming the life out of him. My eyes widened in mocked shock and disbelief. What got my attention was the fact that he knows Caleb Salazar. But the question was, to what extent?

Mr Dan said I missed his first words because I was texting Liam "And then Cherry caught a smell and he started moving to our opposite direction while barking really hard. So, I followed him and after following him for about fifteen minutes in the woods, he stopped and started digging out the ground. Me seeing this, I joined him and we both continued digging until we came across what we saw inside the ground" "Can you tell them what you saw?" Mrs Williams asked "Yes" the man answered sadly "What did you see Mr Dan?" "I saw dead decaying bodies of a man and a woman"

He was a tall man, 6'4" tall. He had combed back white hair, a pale skin tone and red eyes. "Damir, sir. Is it safe to assume you can't be tempted to sell the uništi?" Damir asked while holding a firm grip on his son. Death laughed. "Even if I would sell, you can't afford it." Damir laughed and thanked Death for his patience. The man guided his son back towards their store. "It's always about money with their kind." Mira said under her breath. "Don't forget where you are." Death whispered back to her.

The same man I shot in the chest three days ago. Luca cursed under his breath. “No. No freaking way. That man is dead. I saw him. We buried him—” I lifted my gun instantly. “You’re not real.” Rinaldi smiled—slow, twisted, wrong. “Dead men talk too, you know. Especially when they die with unfinished business.” The room tilted slightly. Maybe from shock. Maybe from anger. Maybe from the pain I keep locking inside my ribs. “You’re not real,” I repeated, but softer this time, like I wasn’t convincing even myself.

He was out the door in seconds, his gun pulled out, boots crunching over the gravel. Don followed close behind. The cabin door was hanging open. “Stay sharp,” Damian ordered, moving in first. The sight inside made him freeze. Bodies. Everywhere. Eight men… his men… lay flat across the wooden floor, all dead. “Jesus…” Don muttered, stepping inside. Damian said nothing. His jaw clenched, his breathing slow and heavy. He scanned the room from the broken furnitures to the dead bodies wondering how one man could do this. Then his eyes stopped.