Death And Me Novels & Stories

It’s ironic how four months will just be gone in a single night. “Rest in peace,” I murmur, setting the forged passport inside before closing the lid. Identity number twenty-seven now Officially deceased. A smile ghosts across my lips. It always feels a little ridiculous holding tiny funerals for women who never existed. But then again most of them had lived more interesting lives than the real me. I kick off my heels, retrieving the miniature USB drive hidden inside the hollow heel. It lands softly in my palm. “So,” I whisper.“You were worth killing for.”

It was th eonly reason i had to live. Yes, I will be reunited with my chestnut if its the last thing I do. I must see my baby, though I am aware I will not be there during her birth since Anna was due to deliver in two months. I sighed regretting the fact that I would not be there to see the birth of my own child. "Goodbyes are the worst, trust me, " a voice said. I turned around sharply and caught the dark brown gaze of Death. He walked to me with a small smirk spread on his face, "believe me muscle man, you will see her again, "

I told them and they both sighed in relief. The thirteenth day after Zack’s death is almost here and it’s driving me insane. I saw Dorothy and Lulu’s death. I felt like I have to choose again and up to now I haven’t saved Beatrice’s and Engr. Murray’s soul. They are nowhere to be found.

I answered curtly. "Brilliant." He grinned grimly, showcasing his rows of sharp teeth. Dazzlingly white and pointed. The blank piece of paper that sat on top of the briefcase began to bleed with words and formed sentences. "I, Death, agree to grant Reniella De Vega a single wish if she successfully collects the soul of Deshawn Cervantes within the time period," he read out from memory. Then, he fished a ballpoint pen from the inside of his suit jacket and placed it next to the paper.

DEATH; DEATH IS an enchantress. Whether you’re young or old; rich or poor; there will come a day when be ensnared by it and succumb to the grave, eventually. The love could’ve been looming over your cotton-soft heart since your birth, or an acquired intimacy for it one day while sat in the wool; for as long as one had as ever trod shoe-leather.

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.

"Everyone always said you were born cursed. Just like that psychic said, you'd be the one to ruin me and keep me from what was rightfully mine. Even after they sent you away, I was still terrified. You not being dead is my nightmare every single night." Melody looked like a madwoman. "Later, I found that psychic again," she spat. "He was nothing but a fraud. My parents paid him well, so he pretended to be clever and made up a bunch of rubbish. But I wasn't satisfied. You deserved to die. I got this statue from him. He told me that if I stuffed a person's birth data and hair into it, I could burn that person's life away and make it serve me. So what if I copied your designs, Charlotte? It's a

She was going to have a field day on A****n picking out super amazing stuff for Dino. Meredith looked up at Brayden’s smile. It was warm and satisfying as though he had just been wrapped in the warmest, softest blanket and given the best cup of hot chocolate in existence and told he could make a wish and it had come true. She may not like this man in front of her but his smile was captivating and looked delicious. For some reason she wanted to taste it. Just for a fleeting moment she had a desire to taste him. She shook her head and remembered what he wished for, her. His wish had come true. She had agreed. And for some reason she felt the need to repeat it. “I agree to My Death Contract.” A

Theme:- Welcome to the Afterlife part 1 As it was inscribed in the holy book, it was given for a man to die once, and after that death, it is judgement. But for me, Rey Reed, it is different. If my guess is right, this will be the third time I have visited the land of the dead. The first time was when I escaped from the tar pit. I can't remember how long I lost consciousness, but when I woke up. I only opened my eyes in hell.

Death was a tall 6'5", slim man with mostly pale skin. His arms, like his legs, were pitch black. His hair was long, about shoulder length, and almost as dark as his limbs. Death was wearing a dark purple robe that went down to the top of his shins with a hood on the back. The sleeves were long enough to cover his lanky arms. His office was a simple room, about eight-hundred square feet, with grey walls. There was a desk and a plaque behind the desk that reads "Memento Mori" Death didn't care for the plaque and often saw it as kind of a joke. He was given it as a gift though, so he kept it hung up at all times, hoping his new recruits wouldn't notice.