Dead Simple Novels & Stories

I know that magic is just an illusion, a trick. Dusting my clothes, I made my way toward my team. They had now assembled themselves in one place, their eyes still holding surprise, and I could guess that they were waiting for me to explain. The crowds were as silent as a graveyard. They weren't making any of their stupid noises, and I am sure they were still trying to recover from the shock of seeing me again. That made me remember a story in the Bible that our Sunday school teacher told us about. It was the story of a man named Lazarus who was resurrected from the dead. The only difference between us is that I have been dead for two months, or should I say suffering and wandering around an

' This could only mean one thing, Sia has regained her memories and lost her soul in the process' ################

Dust motes floated like restless spirits in the stale air, settling slowly on the shattered remnants of violence. Unity's body sagged, collapsing to the cold, unforgiving floor with a heavy, final thud. Her pale shirt bloomed crimson, the dark stain spreading in uneven pools, like ink spilled over a cracked canvas. Yet, even in death, there was something unsettling about her, the faintest curl of a smile lingered on her lips, a ghost of triumph, a defiance that refused to be silenced. The smile was almost cruel in its mockery, as if death itself was just another step in her relentless game.

The kind that stretches forever. Then he looks back at me, face cold, voice flat. "Daisy is dead."

This time, the pain is dull, fading away quickly with the reality of what he’s implying. “Your Alpha is dead.”

“Hm. So what are you doing here?” What was he supposed to say? “Are you dream walking?” She sounded intrigued. The nearly dead had a way of knowing things the living couldn’t even begin to understand. “In a manner of speaking. It’s more like … dream observing.” “Well,” she said, turning away to look at the group of mourners standing around her grave, “not much to observe here, is there?” He smiled. “You’re here.” “I’m boring.” “No, you’re not.” “I’m dying. Dying people are boring – we don’t have much to say.”

He said gently, "Sadie, let the past die with yesterday. From now on, you will be reborn anew. I hope your days from here on will be filled with joy." Standing on the rooftop, Nemera raised her champagne glass, clinking it against his before drinking it all in one breath. "Now, I have only one regret left," Nemera said softly. "What is it?" Noah asked. Nemera looked at him with a strange smile. "Well, my regret is… that you're still alive." "What did you say?" Noah's eyes widened. Suddenly, he clutched his head and dropped to his knees. "How's the champagne with a little something extra?" she asked sweetly.

As I do so, a strange explosion fills my stomach, triumphant that finally there's a replacement of Jordan Crown's beauty. A bit skips as our hands intertwine. Time seems to tick beyond count and age blurs into each other. The entire universe collapsed back to BigBang and was reborn. Stars and planets dies and scatters into the dark nothingness. For these five seconds of staring, nothing else holds significance. Just two windows and a gaze into a moment. Nothing else. Just a stare before the explosion. “Keila Taylor.” We shake hands.

I was starting to get tired but I didn't want to stop running, the voice kept mocking me while I kept repeating mentally that I should wake up. -Mortals are very stubborn, if you keep running you will only get tired. -¡Shut up! -Escape is useless. -¡Shut up! -¿You know you're running in circles, don't you? He laughed again and I stopped running. I looked around and realized that everything looked the same. I knelt before the voice and begged it to wake me up. The being appeared in front of me and was sympathetic to me, made me stand up and wiped away my tears.

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.