Dead Wrong Book Novels & Stories

He puts his front paws on my thighs as I scratch his ears. "His claws," Death says slipping his hands under my arms and pulling me up I look at my thighs and see his claws pierced through my jeans and into my skin where blood was spilling. My thighs heal within seconds and I look at Death who looks surprised "We have things to do tomorrow, so your friend has to go home soon," he tells me I nod and Mika and I go inside his room. Cerberus lays his head on my lap and Mika and I talk about things.

⸻ Because he kept choosing people over destiny. ❤️ ⸻ 🌙 The Unfinished Story The woman looked down at her book. ⸻ For the first time… Sadness appeared in her eyes. 💔 ⸻ “There’s a problem.” ⸻ The library grew silent. ⸻ Everyone felt it immediately. ⸻ Something was wrong. ⸻ Very wrong. ⸻ 🌙 The Final Book The unfinished book slowly opened. 📖 ⸻ Words appeared across its pages.

I can’t take any more humiliation at this company. The book pages mocked me with their indecipherable scrawl. Vampiric Death and Rebirth. It sounded like the title of a bad fiction novel, yet here I was, living the nightmare it described. I had been staring at the same passage for three hours, trying to crack the ancient dialect. It was a cipher within a cipher, guarding secrets I wasn't even sure I wanted to know.

Whatever unease she had earlier is already fading, replaced by something much more like her. “So,” she starts, nudging my arm lightly like she does when she wants my attention, “I started this new book last night.” I glance at her, catching the small excitement in her expression, then go back to stretching my arm across my chest. “It’s about zombies,” she continues, her voice picking up. “Like actual dead people walking around and eating others. It’s kind of disgusting, but also really good.” “And there is this guy,” she goes on, lowering her voice just a little like she is letting me in on something important. “He is technically dead, but not fully gone. Like he still thinks and talks and…

Francesco My hands trembled as I placed them on The Black Book. This isn't going to be easy. But I have to do it. I sucked in a sharp breath and flipped open the cover. Deadly Sins. Wild Secrets. Mafia Rules. Do You Dare To Enter? A chill ran down my spine. What the hell does that mean? I swallowed hard and turned the first page. Nothing. A frown creased my forehead. I flipped to the next. Still nothing.

A few ancient words were engraved on the cover, reading—Dark Secrets. James searched his memories and remembered finding the book when he and a group of powerhouses entered a strange space in the Dark World. Inside the unusual space, there were no other living beings. However, it was full of graves. James dug up the book from one of the graves. The graveyard was full of traps, and most of the group that entered with him died except him and another woman. The woman was none other than Xezal’s past self, Lady Wikolia. After remembering these past events, James opened the book and reviewed it.

Which was almost nothing. Every thread he pulled either snapped clean or led him in a circle back to the same place. Every piece of evidence that had existed two days ago had either been cleaned or locked behind a wall he couldn't get through. Every person who might have given him something solid had either gone quiet or come back empty. It wasn't bad luck. He understood that clearly now sitting in the quiet of his kitchen at ten at night with a cold coffee beside him and a notepad full of dead ends. This was deliberate.

“Because she’s the only reason I’m not part of *your* drift. Because she deserved someone to say this to her a long time ago, and nobody did.” The field went quiet. Even the ever‑present rustle of falling pages seemed to dim for a heartbeat. Then the world made its opinion known. The ground shuddered. Not the paper—that had no weight. The *underneath*. A low, wet cracking sound split the air, like ice giving way over deep water. A jagged black line opened in the paper at the foot of my coffin‑book, tearing through layers of pages, exposing dark beneath. Not stone. Not wood.

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.

Vivian died alone in her home, her body not discovered until it had already begun to rot. Only then did a question arise within me. After the deaths of my parents and Vivian, I never saw their souls. So why did I remain? The system finally appeared and answered my doubt. It said it had seen how painful my life had been, and how tragic my death was. So it used its power to keep my soul intact, allowing me to witness their downfall with my own eyes. Now that they were all gone… it was time for me to let go and be reborn.