Dead Time Stories 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

The above sentences are the thoughts of the author about what he thinks, but it is my duty to tell all the things he has in his mind. The space science and the beginning of the human era, why I always talk about the past, why I'm interested in the dead stories, why I tell a tale of another time, why I don't like the present and, also why I'm not narrating about those dumbasses who were about to close the mysterious case of random killing by an unidentified criminal (creature)? You might have so many questions and confusions about the fact that I puzzle a simple story in what we call a Riddle…? But you can still believe in me that I'll give you a gift tomorrow.

I stood there for hours, praying to die. Until my neighbor, Mr. Collins, came in the morning to look for Jack. I don't remember exactly what happened. I remember waking up the next day in the hospital. I hated the fact that I was still alive and Jack didn't. I wanted to die more than anything. They had killed my whole life. One shot changed everything. One night changed my life completely. It took more than 6 months before I was able to shake off the incident. I had nightmares every night.

[Time of Death: 11:22 AM] If I am asked about their love story. For me, they have the best and most touching story. Although, they didn’t even have a happy ending because of their early deaths, but at least I know and we all know that they proved how much they loved and treasured each other until the very end of their last breaths.

Half a month had passed since I last saw him, so I already missed him dearly. However, as soon as I arrived at the airport, I ran into Quinton and Zachary. They both had sullen expressions, but their faces lit up immediately when they saw me. "Mom! I knew you would come! Are those tarts for me? Thank you for these!" Zachary eagerly snatched the box from my hand. Quinton said coldly, "I told you the deadline was before three o'clock. Do you know what time it is right now? You should learn a thing or two from Lynn when it comes to timeliness!"

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.

Scarlett refused, saying she had an important client meeting with Chase at the time and did not have time to deal with it. Left with no choice, I called an ambulance myself and asked a neighbor for help getting Grandma to the hospital. It was because of that delay that after several hours in the operating room, Grandma ultimately did not make it. Her only thought before closing her eyes was seeing Scarlett one more time to tell her the chowder was ready. Afterward, I discovered that the hotel Chase and Scarlett had checked into was right next to our house, less than 300 feet away. If Scarlett had spared even a moment of her time, Grandma might have survived.

The temperature in the bunker seemed to drop to absolute zero. I stared at the screen, my jaw clenching until my teeth ached. Marcus had been with Thorne Industries for ten years. He was a man I had trusted, a man I had given millions in stock options. And he had sold my life to Victoria Vance for a percentage of a dying syndicate. "He is dead," I growled, the raw, savage dominance of my bloodline taking over.

Why would I want to keep it? When I arrived at the cemetery to visit my parents' graves, I found Adaline kneeling in front of their gravestones, crying remorsefully. "I'm so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Jamison. I hurt Cece terribly! I once promised you that I would take good care of her, but I broke my promise. I'm sorry…" Mom and Dad had died in a fire while saving her. When she'd felt so guilty that she tried to take her own life to make it up to me, I stopped her.

Her fingers hammered against the phone, the sharp tapping echoing her irritation. [Say something. Don't act like you're dead.] [If you don't want it, then return it.] Those cold, cutting words dragged me back to that bone-chilling night in the snow. I wanted to tell her that I was already dead—that I had frozen to death in the cheap down jacket she bought me. Winter in the north is brutally cold. So cold that, after failing to secure a hospital bed, I merely closed my eyes for a moment—and never opened them again.