Dead Woman Crossing Novels & Stories

“Is this a booty call?” I grin, “no.” “Then it’s no point letting you in, is it?” “Let me in. It’s important.” She steps aside. I close the door behind me. “What’s going on?” she asks, voice thick. “Let’s go sit. I’ll put the coffee on.” “I don’t want damn coffee, why are you here Nico? What’s happened?” “Damon Cross is dead.” Her breath stops. She blinks several times. “Excuse me?”

Henry soon ceases his struggle for breath. Blossom sniffs the air, her instincts steering her toward Liza, who is nearby. She follows the blood trail on the ground, navigating past overturned tables and a grim assortment of werewolf and human remains, some still recognizable, others lost to chaos. Her path leads her to the grisly area where bodies hang suspended from meat hooks, a morbid reminder of the horrors that have unfolded.

My throat was dry from the smoke, but I kept talking to her like she was still with me. “It’s going to be okay mom, I’m here now. Please don’t go!” I crawled to her innocent face that was covered in soot. Her big, brown eyes were open, but she still did not move. I picked up her fragile head and cradled it in my arms. In my mind I could not believe she was dead, but the blood that was flowing from her chest gave me the evidence I needed. She was really gone. Who could kill such a gentle woman? I gave in to my sorrow as tears flowed down my cheeks.

Seeing her this way in the musty shadows, Salt’s own breath began coming in irregular hitches now. He unbuckled his dress slacks before the woman’s dimming gaze and let them drop. He violated her then, raped her open mouth as she slumped dying in the theater chair, arms dangling bonelessly at her sides. Her eyeballs might have rolled back once and looked up at him, some horrible diminishing awareness still there, but he couldn’t be certain. Nor did it matter. He violated her as she died, and even after she had died. She made the same wet sounds Aaban Darwish had made in the church’s basement, it occurred to him . . . those same gagging sounds, as she passed from this world into the next.

he shrugs, "death was quicker. You, child, it's no use finding answers. You're dead, it's time to accept it. “I know," I felt a lump in my throat. I knew I was dead, I just had to know certain things in order to understand how it happened, I just don't know how it happened. I woke up today and I was like this. I need to know how it happened. There were girls playing while walking on the bridge, near Chico, one of them tripped and swung into the lane just as a truck was approaching. The truck honked its horn almost immediately. I screamed.

Every document confirmed the same conclusion. Deceased. Cross leaned back in his chair. Then reached for Chloe Bennett's witness statement. He read one sentence again. «"The woman introduced herself as Clara Whitmore."» Cross stared out of his office window. "Either someone is impersonating a dead lawyer..." He closed the file. "...or someone buried the wrong woman." Outside, the city continued as though nothing had changed. But somewhere beyond its skyline, hidden beside a quiet lake, four lives had become bound together by secrets, betrayal...

He inserted his dick into me and began to move fast and rough movements. When he did what he wanted, he left me motionless on the floor. "Hope you die slowly and painfully, bitch." he said and spat at me. The only thing I could see was that his partner Michael was standing up. Apparently the wound was only superficial. "Tom .." "Come on, Mike, let's get out of here. This bitch is dead anyway," he looked at me, knowing I was on the verge of death. They left me to die alone and helpless in that shack. He killed my husband in front of me. I stood there for hours, praying to die.

Back then, I had held our feverish daughter the same way, brow furrowed, racing through the night toward the hospital, coat forgotten. Willow shook off the jumble of thoughts in her head and quickly swapped into a long coat. She wrapped Naomi snugly before braving the cold night to hail a cab. However, the streets were empty. No car waited for them. Willow felt Naomi's temperature continue to climb in her arms. With it, her chest tightened with panic. She had no sense of how much time had passed before a kind stranger finally stopped their car. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

"Nate's ex-wife cheated on him, and his daughter passed away." Grace raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, as if none of it surprised her. "Your wife was a smart woman. A man like you, who can leave people to die, is cruel to the core. Any random man off the street would be more responsible than you. She was right to leave you. "And your child died. Let me guess. You were the one who caused her death, weren't you?" I clenched my fists and stared at her. Grace didn't back down even slightly. She sneered, speaking slowly and deliberately. "When your child was dying, were you just like this—stubborn, cold, and indecisive—dragging things out until she was gone?"

He slumped in his seat, eyes empty, like there was nothing left inside him. Even the officers looked furious. "Dr. Hill, don't worry. We'll make sure this is handled properly." Christine, on the other hand, looked completely stunned. She couldn't seem to understand how their perfect plan to get me killed had fallen apart. "Why… How did this happen…? How did she find out…" she muttered to herself. I finally loosened my clenched fists, a quiet breath leaving my chest. Thinking about how I died in my last life, I only wanted to stay alive this time.