Death Doesn't Discriminate Novels & Stories

The same was said about the laws protecting magical creatures, such as vampires and werewolves, being given as citizens of the city, upon entry into the world. The nature of their dead is diverse, if they can move, walk, and think, since many of them are victims of premature deaths, sometimes starvation, heart attacks and other complications and sequelae that led to their premature deaths. In the meantime, when all of them do not force work, there is no gender discrimination. So here we are, the senator old and decrepit with the fact that he was now in his new movement, which he served in towards the next day, when he went to prepare for the party convention, taking this fight for the equali

"Where do I sign up to play a role in this drama?" "Wow, the world is one giant novel." I couldn't let them steer the narrative off course. It was time to deploy the army of paid comments. "Quick, check if that hospital is owned by a Diller. Usually, these shady dealings are run by a CEO who owns a corrupt hospital."

Death offers nothing to admire, be it the pale skin of the corpse, the stiff joints, the cloudy eyes, the dilated pupils, the decomposed skin, or the white maggots wriggling around. However, taking someone's life, the process of turning something alive into something dead, stealing that divine power, is what drives people insane. When the final shovel of dirt is thrown, it's as if she has buried the hesitant, wavering human beneath the deep pit. The respectful driver with his hands behind his back stood solemnly waiting for him to enter. Alexandra Dhara, with his hand, expressed her desire to enter first, in a very natural and gentle manner.

While I was transporting the sculpture away, I felt extremely agitated looking at the snapped finger. Before receiving the DNA analysis report, I still had hopes that this person might not be Hazel. Even animals would not harm their young. No matter how cruel the Larsons could be, they would not possibly do such a thing. Yet, I had underestimated a person's greed. When Layla's mother took out the suicide note in the police station, I was close to crumbling and falling apart at that point. I knew what I was looking at was forged, and I knew that Hazel had died in their hands. Yet, there was nothing I could do.

"She was declared dead by the hospital four days ago. And you're only finding out now?" The room fell deathly silent. Everyone stood frozen as if struck by lightning. David's eyes widened, staring at the photo on the screen. "You must be mistaken. How could she be declared dead so suddenly?" He grabbed the officer's arm as his voice trembled. The officer impatiently shook him off. "The systems are connected. There's no mistake. She passed away in a hospital just a few kilometers from your house. Four days ago. Aren't you her husband? Why are you only looking for her now?"

It's a very thin line between life and death. Death...the only thing that really unites us all, the only thing that every single one of us is eventually going to have in common. And It doesn't matter if you're the richest or the poorest, death is going to come for you one day.

"The most prestigious family in the state. They hold keys to the power houses of the representatives and they lead a lot of tech companies. But, poor kids had to witness their parents and little sister's deaths at a very young age. It was all over the country, the news, and even in the papers. Tsk tsk, such a tragedy." ‎I was pulled out of my reverie when Kendrick exhaled. He sounded a little pissed, but still he spoke softly. "Kiean, our little sister isn't some dog to be locked in a cage." He added. "Even dogs are treated better than that." ‎Was.. it safe that I was listening to this? An outsider like me? The space was beginning to get hotter than usual. I strained my neck at the window so

"The surgery was successful. The kidney transplant was completed without complications. However, the donor, Jocelyn—" Before he could finish, a nurse wheeled Vivian out of the operating room. The three of them instantly turned and followed her without hesitation, escorting her back to the ward. Not a single one of them stayed to hear what the doctor had to say about me. My body was eventually transported to the cold, silent morgue. I had been ignored in life. In death, even my corpse was abandoned without care. A faint, bitter thought rose in me—how pathetic I was, even in death.

[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.]

The memory answers before she can stop it. Her back against the concrete pillar. The dead closing in. One hand pressed to her bleeding arm. The bag gone. Dex gone. No rescue. No miracle. Just her, laughing once because of course this was how it ended, because if she had known betrayal came with this much paperwork she would have asked for a receipt. She had still tried to get up. Even then. Especially then. “That’s a flattering way to say I died stubborn.” It was a statistically significant death. A laugh escapes her before she can catch it. Small. Ugly. Almost nothing.