Death Book Novels & Stories

Would you like to continue your mission? I was stunned to hear the system say that, and I stared at my mother with bewildered eyes. Despite that, I still shook my head. "No." Loving someone was far too exhausting. Besides, I had already spent twenty-six years loving four women with everything I had. "System, kill me. I'm exhausted. I only want to sleep." I closed my eyes and waited, but the electric shock I was expecting never came. Instead, the system gave me a new notification. 'This body will die in three days, so you may return to your original world then.'

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.

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.

“Ma’am, we can show you a photo first, so you can confirm whether it’s your daughter. It’s just… when we found her, she had been dead for three days, and the body had started to decompose. You should prepare yourself.” With that, he pulled out a photo from the scene and handed it to her. In the picture, a small, blood-soaked body—mine—was curled up on the bed in an unnatural position. My colorless lips and my sickly, bluish-purple skin told her one thing: I was dead. Mom’s eyes widened. At last, she could no longer lie to herself and burst into tears. “How could this happen? How could this be? She was fine just a few days ago. How could she be dead? Daisy, you cursed child, you’re just like

"Oh my God. You're alive?" "What do you mean I'm alive?" My own voice had gone thin, something cold sliding down my spine. "Am I, do you think I'm dead? Have I been declared dead?" "No." A pause, heavy, disbelieving. "You, you were declared dead a few weeks back. Everything in your database was wiped. Accounts closed. Assets transferred." "Wait." My heart had started slamming against my ribs. "I was declared dead." "Yes. You were declared dead. I saw you being buried, Felix. I was at the funeral myself."

The System told me that, as a mission taker, I stood a chance of resurrecting my beloved if I cleared the game. As such, I dedicated my heart and spirit to charm the villainess, even if it meant dying ninety-nine times. When I played the game for the hundredth time, she sent me into a room with a deviant, just to satisfy her crush's whims. "You're not going to die anyway. I don't mind letting you be my boyfriend if you just make Henry laugh." She didn't know that there was a hidden rule—once I played the game a hundred times, my wish of resurrecting my beloved would be granted, success notwithstanding. I shall hence disappear from her world without a trace.

There are deaths that scream. The ones you hear about. The ones people write down. The ones that make sense to witnesses because they announce themselves with drama, with noise, with the sort of finality that allows the living to build a story around the ending. Thomas Reed does not die like that. He dies the way a candle goes out when the room has been too drafty for too long. There is a flicker. A stubborn attempt to remain. Then the flame simply… isn’t.

Dain’s aloof exterior failed, and the shadows still wrapped around his arms and neck bristled. It was his dead, lightless eyes that healed first, and stared at us as the rest of him caught up. “That’s right, it’s going to take a lot more than a few angry shadows to kill me.” His laugh grew stronger as the flesh around his throat and mouth began to heal. “I met Death not that long ago and as it turns out, he doesn’t want me…but he’s very much interested in you.”

Struggles to find a drug that can heal Nathan and keep him alive, but in the end it is the drug that leads to his death. "Death is something that we all experience for sure. All living beings will death, right, Sam? however, even though we know that we will all die, it doesn't mean we can't do anything to survive. We can only try, nothing more, that's why we must not give up and despair because a miracle will surely come." ***

He said nothing but something in his eyes told me that he already knew. "It was your dear mother, it's funny you know... because I thought she was dead." My tone changed, losing the fake playfulness it held moments ago, a frown creased my forehead, "Wasn't she?" I pressed my palms on both sides of the handrest and leaned forward, "You see, when I kill someone, they're supposed to stay dead." I rolled my eyes, "But for some reason, all the dead people in my life somehow come back to life and they make their way into mine and screw it up."