Novel & Cerita Dead Simple

She’s still out there AND I am now dead, gone. I spent so much of my life wanting to believe that even if she never knew it was me, never believed I would be there, she was safe. But Sienna Bray is dead now too, she’s nothing but dust trapped in a black hole with nothing besides a few fragmented thoughts of a son, she loves, a husband she can’t picture, and a sister who remembered her as a dead little girl. I still think my life could’ve ended worse.

I need to see my love "Hey! I was asking you a question! Where is my fiancé?!" "Son please calm down...I'm sorry to say this but Safeenah is dead" "What?! Who...who do you say was dead? Safeenah? My Safeenah?!" "I'm sorry,we tried all our possible best to save her but it was her time already 'From God we came from and to Him we shall return back to' please take heart Mr Kareem" the doctor replied me

The photo zooms out, and I catch the ceremonial proceedings taking place. “O MY GOD!” The remote clatters on the floor as my former boss reads my obituary. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M DEAD?!” I shriek as I stare at the screen in disbelief. I’m standing right here alive and healthy. Why the hell does the world think I’m dead? “We did all we could, but we were still too late,” the boss finally says as he flips the next page. “The Russians still got us.”

“I’ve got right.” There is only one dead. They both pause. Then Maya says, “Fine. You take the moral high ground. I’ll take the knees.” This time he does smile. Small. Brief. Devastatingly unhelpful. They dispatch the dead in three movements. His axe, her crowbar, no wasted sound. The body drops beside a bin with a soft finality. Eli wipes the axe head on the nurse’s trouser leg. Maya does not like how much she likes the lack of flourish.

The morgue was cold, carrying a foul, sterile smell. Expressionless staff pushed me into a metal drawer. With a soft "click," the door closed. The system's voice echoed in my mind. [Death confirmed. Final storyline completed.] [Countdown to soul departure: 71 hours 59 minutes.] [Please await the opening of the passage.] I drifted in the cold, hollow air and let out a breath. Finally, things were coming to an end.

So pretty with pure silver blades, black leather handles and all sizes from a small paring knife to a machete. “I ain’t saying shit! Might as well kill me now!” He barked “Oh, you will be dying today. The question is how long it will take. You see, Alpha Kyle has a certain way about doing things and I am anxious to see how long it will take you to die. It is pretty painful so it could be quick or it could be very very slow. Like days slow.” “Doesn’t matter. I ain’t fucking saying shit!”

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.

It looked like my death could be so easily brushed off in the face of Henry's nonchalant apology. "It was me. I was the one who killed him. I got him to do the transplant. It was me…" Henry hugged her tightly. "It's fine, Christine. It's fine. You didn't know this would happen. This is fate. If you really feel bad, we can bring his urn back and commemorate him." "Yes. I'm going to get his ashes back. I'm his wife," Christine muttered to herself. I found it comical. The person who caused my death was calling herself my wife. How dare she still try to get my ashes back?

I smiled for the lens, picked at the ribbon, and opened it. The smell hit first, metallic and sweet in a way that made my stomach turn. Inside was a teddy bear soaked in fake blood, the fur matted dark, glass eyes staring up at me, and a card pinned to its chest. I only saw the first line before my hands stopped working. YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED AT THE GALA. The box slipped. The bear hit the studio floor with a wet sound that was too loud in the sudden quiet. I shoved back from the couch so hard the legs screeched.

His gaze was locked onto the body before him. Hazel lay there — unmoving, pale, lifeless. Her skin had lost its warmth, her chest no longer rose with breath. The woman who once looked at him with fire in her eyes now lay still, silent, as though the world had drained her of everything she was. Kevin watched him for a moment longer, then turned away. He motioned for his men to leave, and one by one they filed out of the morgue, their footsteps fading into the distance. Max lingered at the doorway.