Dead Man Review Mga Nobela at Kwento

DAWN’S POV I was seated in the throne room, watching as the elders and gammas of my pack whispered among themselves, unable to believe that their alpha was dead. I assured them that he was dead, but they demanded to see his body. "I want to see his body! How can we believe he is dead without seeing his body?" one of the gammas said, with a tinge of desperation in his voice. "You don't need to see his body. Trust me, he's dead," I replied with a cold tone, trying to hide my smile.

Shhh, don't talk too much honey and if I were you I'll put the gun down" i spoke in a low tone with a menacing smile. "You must be dumb if you think I'll let you leave this place alive, it's high time someone killed you and I'm glad I'll be the one, at least the people of the world will be free from your notorious ass" a dark chuckle emanated from my lips and I shook my head in amusement. "You think being armed and being in this confined space alone makes it the perfect opportunity to get rid of me. C'mon Jonathan I didn't expect you to be foolish. I'm Maja Elzandre, I'm quite acquainted with this situation" he twisted his neck with a sinister smirk.

It laughed so hard that even some of the crying stopped — people freezing mid-sob, stunned by the sheer insanity of the sound. I could feel it vibrating through my chest, every note cutting through my ribs. When it finally stopped, it wiped an invisible tear from the corner of its eye and said, still chuckling, “Have you forgotten?” Its grin twisted. “You’re also dead.” The man’s mouth fell open. “W-what?” he whispered, barely audible. The Game Master leaned down until their foreheads almost touched. “Dead,” it repeated, dragging the word out like a lover’s whisper. “Every single one of you. Including you. You died. You’re not alive.”

I hovered around her, quietly watching this scene. I really did not understand. I was dead. What was the point of her doing all this? So that she could be moved by her own actions? Or was she trying to lighten her guilt? I realized that I did not know her at all. Even after my death, I still did not know her. It was not until the evening that Nate grimly kicked the door open and stuffed my urn into her arms. "I finally know why you and Jason are together. You two are equally nuts! Just get lost!"

The heavy mahogany table was abandoned, littered with forgotten water glasses and torn legal papers, but the memory of her performance was burned into the back of my retinas. I had watched her through the camera feeds. I had listened through the micro-comm as my quiet, reserved wife walked into a room full of apex predators, pulled out a digital blade, and systematically slaughtered every man who had tried to take my empire. She hadn't just saved my voting blocks —she had executed a hostile corporate takeover without firing a single bullet, looking completely divine in her tailored charcoal suit while doing it. The Ghost.

He said nothing but something in his eyes told me that he already knew. "It was your dear mother, it's funny you know... because I thought she was dead." My tone changed, losing the fake playfulness it held moments ago, a frown creased my forehead, "Wasn't she?" I pressed my palms on both sides of the handrest and leaned forward, "You see, when I kill someone, they're supposed to stay dead." I rolled my eyes, "But for some reason, all the dead people in my life somehow come back to life and they make their way into mine and screw it up."

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?

Her lifeless eyes were open, staring sightlessly up at him. Conner turned away, fighting to control the nausea roiling in his stomach. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose. The dead man would turn out to be a drug dealer, Conner knew, a low-life whose death would be no great loss to anyone. But the woman was different. She had been killed, her body mutilated, simply because that was how it had been done on a stupid television show. Her death was obscene, an abomination, a cry against everything civilized. Some faceless scriptwriter penned a gruesome incident in a stab for ratings, and an innocent woman had died and been defiled because of it.

It tries to send the memory through her knees, her hands, her throat. Maya lets it arrive. Then she steps left. The dead follow sound and motion. They do not think. They do not plan. They do not fake low and attack high. They are patient appetite in a ruined suit. “Behind?” she whispers. Clear within twenty feet, LUS says. “Lovely.” The dead man reaches. Maya lets him commit, shifts inside the arc, hooks her foot behind his ankle, and drives the crowbar hard into the side of his knee.

With their guns at the ready, they stormed the room only to be welcomed by a horrendous sight. “Quick, check if he’s alive,” Thane ordered after making sure that no one else was there. He knew it was impossible, what with all the blood that painted the floor and walls. It was almost unbelievable that it all came from one person. Damon cautiously approached the body of a man dangling on a hook two feet from the ground. Taking two fingers to the person’s neck, the soldier felt nothing. “No pulse, Sir.” The man was covered in cuts varying in size with some parts of his skin hanging. What’s remaining was a bullet-plastered, crimsoned figure of what used to be human. “God, it was like he was used