Dead Simple Novels & Stories

Undead had terrible naming sense. It seems that it wasn’t just their lives that had been lost when they died. Just like Muscles was a direct expression of his name, Slender was also an exact definition of his name. His prominent clavicular and rib bones as well as his overtly expressed zygomatic bone and temporalis muscle were enough to show that he was wasted. While he was tall, he was as slim as a broom and would have been mistaken for a terminally ill man if he wasn’t already dead. Standing with Muscles, they drew such a stark contrast between themselves that it was almost comical; however, the Undead with them didn’t think so.

I almost fell from my seat. @Death Wish

Zayn laid hold of his shirt and snared, "Who the fvck are you all?" He laughed and sniffed with blood running out of his nose, "We are the revolution" He slowly let go of the body to the ground and the man was gone. He was dead. Zayn turned and his eyes met with that of Allegra whose fist was tightened. She said to him, "Another dead end, these guys keep dying like it's nothing" "It sounds strange but they die after saying, Hail, Alpha Ajax. Like an activator for the death or something"

After all, he was already dead. “Well, getting a paycheck sounds realistic to me. And besides, if any of this is real, which I'm willing to believe it is, I haven't played video games for nothing, have I? I never imagined having no motivation would work out this way, I think being dead is more fun than being alive.” “I am glad you find being dead enjoyable, but I need to inform you that you need to throw away anything you believe to be true and be prepared to witness the truth of the universe. Mr. Akira, please be ready. The system is computing…

Is his last words before I felt his heart slowly fade away from its rhythm. “He’s dead,” Alpha Zac confirmed. Yeah. He’s dead. Alpha Ryder is dead.

That version of Aria was dead. I stepped into the dim room, the scent of leather and high-end tech hanging thick in the air. Sitting on the center of the desk was his secondary terminal—a sleek, high-powered laptop connected to the penthouse's secure server. I lifted the lid, and the screen glowed to life, flashing a stark login prompt: Enter Biometric Passcode or Encryption Key.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Officer Will took the call with sorrow. Grim Marie had taken her own life. She was found in the bath with expensive-smelling bubbles and a candle. She had used a razor. He wished this hadn’t surprised him. His heart felt heavy, but he tried to convince himself that at least she was at peace now, enfolded in the arms of her mother and her daughter. A third little urn lined up on the shelf, perhaps. At least the pain and misery of her hunt for The Wolf was over.

They couldn't have been more than fifteen years of age and were both intelligent looking. "We are the new fates, brothers Jackson and Nowell and you two are Rai, the Grim Reaper and Sebastian, a Death & Life soul cultivator, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Jackson stated and presented his open hand to us as he stepped closer. Rai shook it first and said we needed to clean up the mess. "We will deal with it, you both enjoy your newly engaged selves," Jackson grinned. We both thanked them profusely and stood back as they waved their hands over the corpses and the bodies and blood all vanished.

I heard the clicking of camera shutters, but no one called the ambulance. My blood drained dry. My body became cold. Finally, Yvette Skye was no more. I died all alone at the corner of the street. No one cared. My corpse was not a pretty sight. My eyes were wide, unseeing, and there was a large hole in my stomach. My legs were twisted together. One of my arms was flung by the side of the road. My legs were useless now. I was ugly. No wonder the little girl cried. Floating in the air, I stared at my mutilated corpse.

"Your friends are already dead. You have no future ahead of you. Just stop struggling and let go." His eyes find me, fiery and full of anger. He opens his mouth one last time, no doubt to call me a whore again, but this time no sound escapes his lips. Only a long wheeze, a scratchy inhale that sounds like it might hurt a lot. His eyes go impossibly wide, and with that, his body goes limp. I watch and wait as he heaves his last breath, then he's dead. Finally, I take a step back, looking at the three corpses and wondering what I'm going to do with them.