Death App Novels & Stories

Emily asked as she slowly walks backwards, trying to get away from the mysterious entity. "I am Death. The commander of the reapers and the fourth horseman of the apocalypse." His voice sounds eerily deep. Emily's eyes widened. "Am I-" Emily couldn't utter the word. "Dead? Absolutely," Death continued. "I can't die. This can't be happening," Emily dropped on her knees. "Sorry but, there's nothing we can do about it," Death apologized. "I'm dreaming right? This is just a weird nightmare. I'll wake up later then I'll be okay." Emily tries to force a smile, convincing herself that everything is not real.

I don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.

Twenty minutes later, I’m done and turning my paper in to Professor Vassily’s desk. “Already?” He takes the paper from me. “Yeah. I love the book.” He chuckles. “You take after your father, I guess.” I stare at him. Professor Vassily rubs his temple. “I read your file. I saw that he was a professor. I’m sorry for your loss.” The suffocating feeling I’m always working so hard to keep at bay presses down on my chest. I’m right back there, standing in the living room with the phone pressed to my ear, hearing those awful words: “terrible accident”... “passed away”...

To help her childhood sweetheart, David Middleton, take my place studying abroad, my wife, Sharon Griffin, destroys my records and deliberately fills in false information, ensuring that I'm permanently denied a visa. She even severely injured my hands before sending me to the Behavioral Reform Center. My mother-in-law, Paula Brown, who has always treated me with affection, takes Sharon's side. "Kyle is so ungrateful. We gave him everything, and he still wanted to get a PhD abroad to find his biological parents. Who's going to take care of me if he's gone?" Sharon snorts. "He's just vain. When he found out I'd turned down Westbridge's offer of admission, he gave me the silent treatment an

He is so happy because he will finally be able to escape this chaotic world and they will be able to fulfill the simple dream of Akira and his as a normal couple. When he arrived at the condo, he immediately took a shower first to be able to clean and to make sure if he hadn't been scratched before. As the water flows through his body you can see the blood of his victims clinging to him gradually flowing into the sink. Azrael’s body is full of scars from his wounds from his previous missions and on his back is a large tattoo— “Deus Mortis” which in Latin means “God of death” is what the organization called him because of the number of impossible missions he has accomplished.

It wasn't a liquidation order, and it wasn't a compliance brief from Sophia Lang. It was an automated death certificate, finalized by the London metropolitan forensic desk ten minutes prior. The name on the digital registry was *Victor Hawthorne*, and the cause of death was listed as an acute, untraceable toxin detected during his morning transport from the Carlton Club. Before Elias could process the sudden, violent decapitation of his dynasty, a secondary window popped open on the screen, revealing a pre-recorded video file. The image rendered smoothly, showing Rafe Morale Blackwood sitting inside the darkened interior of an unmarked sedan, a sleek silver briefcase resting on his knees.

★★★★★ MORTUARY* Antonio walked into the mortuary slowly, his eyes gazing around the numerous grave lowered around the big land. Some people could be seen in front of some graves, crying while some were with flowers placing it on the top of it. Antonio bit his lips as he remembered how he lost his wife, Tatiana's mother and he blinked tears. His eyes roamed around but no sign of Tatiana. She's always frequent in this place but today's different.

Even though the picture was of poor quality, my figure was still recognizable. The post quickly gained traction. People were eating up the drama. Roman’s heartless ex-girlfriend was finally getting what she deserved. Even God had had enough and was taking my life away. Curious onlookers started digging into my past. They left nothing untouched. My background, my school, and everything about my life were exposed online. The funeral home replied to the comment. EverlastingRestFuneralHome_official: Our funeral home usually only uses white flowers, but that young woman insisted on ninety-nine roses. I asked if the color might be too bright. She said they were for herself. Sigh. It was only then

Death. Everyone was about to die.

It was a light designed to burn away the darkness, regardless of whether the person carrying that darkness survived the fire. I was still pinned against the cold stone of the catacombs, my body trembling in the aftermath of a passion that had turned into a death trap. The black smoke of the King of Sorrows was still curled in my lungs, tasting like soot and old blood. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a frost-covered hand, struggling to beat against the crushing weight of the entity now occupying my husband’s skin.