Dead Woman Crossing Novels & Stories

"She couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. When I saw that... it scared me... I wanted to call a doctor, an ambulance, someone to help. She called me over, to-told me to sit down and listen carefully. She said she wanted me to promise her something before she goes..." Damien let out a sigh and wiped his tears. Ashleigh could feel tears building up in her eyes too. "She said I should promise to move on and continue being a good man... promise to live life to the fullest and not let anything stop me from doing so... be it sickness, be it poverty, be it loss, I should take it all as it comes. "I promised her I would then she... sh-she closed her eyes a-a-and that was it. She just... died...

I said calmly, “You are Stacy. My wife died long ago. You even handled the cremation yourself.” She stared at me in disbelief. “How can you not recognize me? I am Wendy. Stacy is the one who died!” Hearing that made my heart sink even deeper. So, she knew everything, yet she chose to pretend and watched me become a widower. I said coldly, “How could I fail to recognize my own wife? You’re not her. No matter how alike you look, you are not the same person. She is gone. Why are you using her name to commit atrocities?”

A puddle has formed around him, and shards of glass pierce most of his skin and torso. Both she and Johnny almost faint right there. The cups fall. Because the woman lying dead on the ground is Rosita Dolorez.

Because he liked her so much, he became especially cautious. Looking at the neatly cut sandwich on her plate, Vanessa felt warm inside. She enjoyed breakfast immensely. “Hey, did you hear? The two women who got stabbed to death at the plaza last night was a young heiress from the Cross family who had just returned from overseas, and the other seemed to be a daughter from the Carter family. “The one surnamed Cross didn’t die on the spot, but she didn’t make it after being sent to the hospital and passed away in the early hours.”

The entire scene looked like a borrowed imagery from some mythic folklore. Regardless, the final door stood proudly without being obligated to any of his beliefs or ideologies. Just as she began inching towards the final door frame, her soul started whispering away. Creed felt his heart melting away. Her last stand did not look as good, and Creed saw her soul wisping away. The pressure and temperature were too hard for her to complete her final crossing. The 7 crossing had already put a vast amount of strain on her body. "She won't make it!" Creed uttered.

I nod, moving along with him, and together we walk slowly along the wall, studying the images drawn there. As we walk along the length of the wall, I at first assume that the images are simply decorative. The Goddess of Life is in most of them, doing magnificent things. I see some of her standing with pregnant women and newborn children, pressing what looks like light into their hearts, blessing their minds. Another shows her hand and hand with her brother, Death, as they together usher the shades of dead through the Deadlands, him showing them the way in, her showing the way out.

"A young woman vanishes without a trace. No evidence. No leads. As if she simply... ceased to exist." "The story fascinated me. I dug deeper, trying to find the truth behind the disappearance — until I came across a novel." My body went rigid. "What did you just say? A novel?" "The world we're in right now — it's a novel. I stumbled into it the same way you did. That's when I realized you didn't just disappear. You crossed over, just like me." "I've been watching you for a while. Everything about you confirmed it — you're the woman who vanished."

After she killed us, Keyla stuffed our bodies into dirt-crusted sacks and tossed us in a sewage ditch. Rain took care of the evidence. If some random scavenger hadn't caught a whiff, we might've stayed lost forever. I wanted to see Edmond's reaction. He pulled on his lab coat and gave a quiet, solemn nod to the corpses. It was the first time I watched him work. First time I saw how he could talk to a corpse for hours but couldn't even say "I'm tired" to me. Like I was some kind of poison that made him shut down.

My parents were old, not to mention both of them had heart conditions. Mara and her parents beat them till they were half-dead. They ended up lying by the side of the road, barely clinging to life. Right at that moment, the hospital called to tell them that Jayden had unfortunately passed away in the hospital. Hearing that their grandson did not survive, my parents' hearts gave out on the spot, and they died right by the side of the road. Thinking about that, rage boiled in my heart.

I yelled out and she turned her gaze towards our direction. "Oh my goodness" she muttered and ran out to get more help. They came in with the stretcher to carry her and not once did I let go of her hand. On our way out i bumped into Rocco and he was about to question me when his eyes caught the sight of a blood drowned Martina. "Fuck" he muttered and came to help.