Dead Sans Novels & Stories

Instead, the system gave me a new notification. 'This body will die in three days, so you may return to your original world then.'

He paused, his ex‍pressio⁠n dar⁠kening. “Casualt​ies,‌” he⁠ continue‍d. “Two dead, fifteen inj⁠ured most of whom you’ve already hea⁠led.​ The dead are Marcus Dane, young‌ enforcer, twen‌ty-three yea‍rs ol‍d, an⁠d El⁠ara Ch⁠en, heale​r’s assi‌stant​,​ thirty-one.”

Life couldn’t have been better. Despite that, I couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the Duttons were up to. I knew that as long as they didn’t find a body, they wouldn’t declare a death. This led to endless speculation in society about whether the two of us were truly dead. Rumors and gossip spread everywhere, but I remained unmoved. Every day, I soaked up the sun, watched handsome men by the sea, and lived a life of pure indulgence. After half a year, though, I started to get a little bored.

I tried to stop him, but I couldn't. He jumped off the building. The doctors and nurses rushed to save him the moment they found him. However, Noah had lost the will to live. His consciousness faded, and he was soon pronounced dead. I waited quietly outside the operating room. Suddenly, Noah's voice echoed behind me. I turned to see him standing there. "Vic, I'm here. In this world, we can't be together. But we will be together in the afterlife. I'll love you. I'll treat you right. I'll love you more than anything."

I expected a score update or weather report. A breaking new banner crawled across the bottom of the screen in urgent red letters instead. BREAKING: Sadie Allister Confirmed Dead — Apparent Suicide at Private Penthouse. My fork clattered to the floor. The room spun around me, and the hum of conversation dropped into a low road like a seashell against my ear. I glanced at the TV, I blinked once, twice, as if the news would just disappear. Sadie. Gone. No. No, that couldn’t be right.

The blame rests entirely upon my actions. His arms tightened around me. Against my hair he murmured the words, "No, it’s not." My attempts to halt the progression proved futile. The sensation of it taking place reached my awareness. That spiraling sensation. The oppressive burden suffocates and compresses. The event extended beyond her mere passing. This event marked his demise as well. The memories returned with relentless force, sweeping through my consciousness as an unyielding tidal surge. An additional firearm discharge occurred. Another friend gone. A lifeless body rests at my feet.

He simply nodded, and that was enough. “Dr. Vance,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s good to meet you in person.” I nodded in return. “Likewise, General Cole.” There was no need for pleasantries. I knew why I was here, and so did he. Without another word, he gestured for me to sit. “I’m sure you’ve seen the reports. You’ve read about the fever. The people who’ve died. The ones who’ve turned. It’s a nightmare. And we’re losing. Every day, we lose more ground to the infected.”

"She couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. When I saw that... it scared me... I wanted to call a doctor, an ambulance, someone to help. She called me over, to-told me to sit down and listen carefully. She said she wanted me to promise her something before she goes..." Damien let out a sigh and wiped his tears. Ashleigh could feel tears building up in her eyes too. "She said I should promise to move on and continue being a good man... promise to live life to the fullest and not let anything stop me from doing so... be it sickness, be it poverty, be it loss, I should take it all as it comes. "I promised her I would then she... sh-she closed her eyes a-a-and that was it. She just... died...

Woods said a quick, silent prayer, hoping that the big southern girl didn’t freeze her ass off on her way up to the Pearly Gates. Thirty simple seconds tick-tocked on by, and despite the electric crackle of expectancy in the air, Mama Metcalf remained well and truly dead. Even her blood had stopped flowing, ruby diamonds on a cigarette-butt strewn patch of land. The old woman across from her, Wanda Mabry, would also never move again. Her index finger was curved inwards as though still depressing an invisible trigger that shot invisible bullets of hatred at a sky that would never die. Sirens sung in the distance. When the hospice alarm was activated an automatic call out was prompted to the f

From somewhere inside of the black hole that she had sunk into, Erin heard Cheyenne calling her name and saying something to her, but she could not hear what was being said and she did not care. She wanted to die, but death had eluded her. The initial numbness she felt after witnessing Danshak’s gruesome death has worn off and was now replaced by crushing grief that left her breathless at times. It was as if she was getting stabbed in the heart with a sharp dagger each time she remembered how Nikjin ripped her mate apart like a piece of rag.