Death By Meeting Novels & Stories

“Without you, every day is unbearable. “Cece, I’m sorry for hurting you. But I loved you. I still do. “I once prayed to God, begging Him to let you live. And if you didn’t, I asked Him to take me with you. He heard my prayer.” I could no longer speak. Tears streamed down my face. Love made people foolish. It could make someone lose their sense of self. Maybe this was the best ending for us. I reached out and held his hand after stealing one last glance at him. The rhythmic beeping echoed through the room. Then, it stretched into one long, unbroken sound. As it did, we both closed our eyes. I felt weightless. I felt as if I was floating. When I saw Lily bawling as she held me, I knew I was al

After I died, I was unable to cut my ties with the mortal world and turned into a spirit that stayed by the side of my wife, Lori Levaine. Wailing was heard in the hospital's corridors. Just an hour ago, a fatal car accident happened on a major bridge over the river in the city. Dozens of cars had slammed into each other. It was a gruesome sight. Every doctor in the city rushed over to save lives, including Lori. I tried my best to hold back the gurgling blood in my throat as I lay in a pool of blood. I felt relieved the moment I saw Lori.

He was peeling an apple when a sudden pain twisted through his chest. The fruit knife slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. Irritated, he yanked at his tie. His underboss rushed into the hospital room, panic written all over his face. "Don Corleone, something terrible has happened… Mrs. Corleone's room caught fire..." "And Mrs. Corleone..." Corleone's face instantly turned pale. For the first time, he felt a fear unlike anything he had ever experienced. "Corleone, I need you here. Don't go. Just send your men to look for Isabella."

“Then tell me… what am I supposed to do?” “If you really want to see me,” I said after a long pause, my voice steady, “go and get that burial plot I told you to buy. We’ll meet there one last time.” The day we agreed to meet, the sky was dark with clouds. The burial plot Isaac had purchased was located on the outskirts of the city. The surroundings were peaceful, lined with tall pine trees swaying gently in the wind. This was the only respect I could give the child who never had the chance to come into this world.

After a thorough investigation by the production team, the details of my past were quickly uncovered. They also confirmed with the relevant authorities that I had, in fact, already passed away. "Three years ago, Nicolas Soros died on a snowy night—frozen to death because he couldn't afford hospitalization. "It wasn't until the autopsy that the coroner discovered that what looked like a thick down jacket… didn't even contain real padding. And that was already the most expensive piece of clothing his mother had ever bought for him. With discounts, it cost less than five dollars.

“I met you just four years ago but now you are gone. May we meet again in our next lives so that we can be father and daughter again but this time I pray that we meet from when I am born. I pray to experience your love from infancy to when I grow to an adult and I pray you do not have to die again by something unknown. And as for whoever did this, I pray they meet their end soon, life for life, blood for blood, they won’t escape death” Milana said as tears flowed down her eyes and as she poured the sand in her hands on his grave.

I just had to focus on the motive and the agenda for which I called for this meeting. “It will be better and nicer if you all just listen to me and stop uttering side-talks. I know most of you might not have been able to hear this shocking news, but it is better I address it to you or myself. One of us has just left us to be sent, and it's obvious that none of you have heard about the news. Some of you might have heard rumors, but it is better for me to come publicly like this and announce the death of one of us,” I said as I paused to take a breath.

Text from Amon: How are‌ you feeling? Like death​, I t​ype​ bac​k. B‌ut the good kind.‌ Is there⁠ a g​ood kind o​f dea⁠th​? I stare at his ques‍t‍i‍on. For a famil⁠y like ou‌rs,‌ death isn’t abstract a​nymore. It’s Ayana’s empty room. It’s the graves we visit every Sunday. Wro‍ng choice of word⁠s, I correc​t. I f⁠ee​l terrible but hap​py abo‌ut‍ it.

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

He ignored the creature and kept walking, hoping that in ignoring him, he would leave him alone. “One of the men you made to choke the other day has died at the hospital. Guess which people are accused of killing him with witchcraft,” the man said again and Jason’s heart skipped a bit. “What are you saying?” he asked, turning to the man. “Nothing, bro,” Grant said, walking past Jason, then turning to look at him funny. Jason’s eyes were fixed on somewhere else and not him. He did not know what to make of it, so he continued walking. The latter had not seen him walk past.