Death Book Novels & Stories

Emily requested. Death didn't say anything. He just nodded. Emily went to the morgue and took a peak at her dead body. It is lying down on top of a cold metal bed. It is covered with a white sheet of cloth. She unveiled the cloth, revealing death face. Her thin pinkish lips are now pale just like her skin. Her round Asian eyes are closed. her long curly brown hair lays flat on the surface. "I look so peaceful," Emily commented. She felt Death's hand touched her shoulder again.

From Drugs to Brothels. Killing people was nothing but a game for him. He showed no mercy, nothing to the people who dared to raise their heads in front of him. His games were always dangerous and stained with Blood. Velenoso was the second name of Death. The Poisonous death. Sabrina couldn't believe her sister was married to such a man. Bella shook her head, tears strolled down her cheeks. "No, I heard him talking to someone over the phone…" she whispered and told Sabrina everything she heard.

Death has no regard for anyone, regardless of size, class, religion, or anything else. Death doesn't inform before it shows up at the door of an individual. Death doesn't make friends with anyone. Everybody is going to be dead one day, just give them time. Death is the penalty we all pay for the privilege of life. Death, for all his power, cannot carry water from the river with a sieve. Death, taxes and childbirth! There’s never any convenient time for any of them. A single death is a tragedy; a million deaths is a statistic Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it

Betsy waited outside the operating room looking anxious. "You still care about him, don’t you?" I asked her quietly. "Who says I do?" she snapped. "I'm just worried that if he dies, what will happen to our business?" It made sense! I nodded quickly. If he died at our guesthouse, there was no way we could keep running it. Seeing her hard exterior, I sighed. "I don't know where you got your information, but there's no truth to it,” Julius said to his mother.

Layla's fans sang her praises, saying that she was kind, beautiful, and the best sister in the world. It was raining on the day they cremated my remains. Layla carried the urn containing my ashes and pretended to shed a few tears. I moved toward her. Then, I tried to punch and kick Layla to try and get her hands off me. It was so revolting. Everything about this world sickened me. I dropped to the ground after having exhausted myself. Then, I watched as they put me inside a small box. The words, "Our dearest daughter, Hazel Larson", could be seen on the rectangular tombstone. How ironic.

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

Now she was a pile of mangled flesh lying in the morgue. I turned and went back inside, locked the door, and slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor. My phone vibrated. "Backup slots are full. In the next cycle, death cannot be transferred." The next day, the sun came up, and the world went on as usual. Except for Unit 703. There was still no movement. I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. The scratch at the corner of my eye was still there. It was thin, narrow, and capped with a faint scab.

"Celie and Terrance Ward are supposed to be dead. I'll help as well, but all of us need to keep this away from Valeur for long as possible. All of this started from his transmigration; therefore, he should be the one defeated and held accountable. It'll just take all of us working together... or he'll kill us off one by one. I've done my history on Valeur...he's not a demon I wanna encounter." Terrance and Phuture both glanced at each other after being approached by Death, but neither of them sought out a reply. The two of them had so much history with Death, so many memories flustered their brain at once when she arrived. The stunned duo remained quiet and, in their heads, Phuture felt nost

… I had been pacing in boredom outside the operating room when suddenly I felt my body being disturbed. A second later, I was back at the estate, in the bedroom where I had died. A blood-curdling scream tore through the house. Willow Trump, the housekeeper, stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping over herself as she grabbed Jake's arm in a panic. "Ms. Bartlett! S-she—she's dead!" Jake's expression changed. Shoving Willow aside, he bolted up the stairs. By now, my body had begun to decompose. The stench of rot filled the air, and Jake instinctively covered his nose, his face twisting in disgust.

[Host has suffered catastrophic injustice: deprivation of dignity and theft of achievement. [Current unfairness count: 3/3.] [Judgment confirmed. Death program initiating.] [Brain-death countdown: 10 minutes.]