Death Doesn't Discriminate Novels & Stories

I cut them off with a shout, "WHAT IS THIS EXACTLY?!" El sighed, "It's nothing." "I know about D.A.C already." I sighed, "What's more to know?" El gulped, "Nothing." "Just say it." He sighed, "People involve with the corporation tend to die." "Stop being overdramatic." I reasoned out, "Everyone's going to die someday; no one lives forever." "What I mean is that people tend to die earlier than the year they should die." He shrugged, "It's a fact."

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

I could not even see my face anymore. “It was an accident. Your wife died from labor complications.” Then, he squatted down and used his glove to wipe away the dust on my face. My pale face and my dusty body formed a stark, tragic contrast. My lower body was still stuck in the position I assumed when I delivered my babies. I looked grotesque and hilarious. Mark just shot my body a look before he snickered.

I could not even remember how. At the very least, I should thank him for serving as our first lab rat and providing such valuable data. … That night, the hospital informed me that he had killed himself shortly after I left by drinking a bottle of sanitizer. They pronounced him dead soon after. I gave a noncommittal "mm-hmm" and told the hospital to handle the body. His funeral was simple: no ceremony, no pomp, no ritual, not even a single guest. I watched as they lowered him into the grave.

He looked at me a little concerned. "I'm not leaving unless you come with me," I told him and squeezed his hand. He smiled back at me. "I don't know if you remember what happened the first time I visited your home and what I am, um, I'm Death and I'm immortal," I stated firmly and watched an array of emotions cross his eyes. "What does that even mean, you kill people and cannot die," he asked incredulously. I bit my lip and sighed.

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.

They didn't sound like they were trying to insult Lucifer. "Excuse me?" The unknown clasped their hands and leaned in. "What Death wants and what is possible do not align. He wants true equality among all races of this world, including humans, and that is just not possible. You've traveled these lands, you've lived as an angel, a fallen, and an advocate for humanity, so surely you've noticed how impossible Death's ideals are?" The unknown's explanation surprised Lucifer. "How old are you? More importantly, what are you?" Lucifer asked, stalling for time to think.

Do you think I do not care about the people around me? It is true that death is like an uninvited guest who sits on the table with a whistle on its hands. When it blows the whistle slowly, everyone in the gathering knows the time for a victim to be chosen has come. Death came to my home this month. Death knocked at the door of my Dad but he did not answer. Death knocked at the door of Mum but she did not answer. Death was furious after two trials but it was patient to continue its task. They say failure makes a man stronger, I say failure makes a supernatural being like death ruthless. It brings out the worse in it. Failure makes everything that the silent killer has worked for many months a

Ashley Death was not a respecter of persons. Young or old, rich or poor, everyone was someday going to be caught by its scythe. The only thing we could do was to make the best out of our lives while we still had it, and do our best to preserve it.

“I won’t give you Don if you have made friends with the enemy.” “I thought you might say that, but here’s the thing: you're dying from colon cancer. All the money you are wasting on the treatment is only making you worse. You won’t live another year, maybe not even six months. A painful death awaits you as the cancer destroys your body. If you die before handing me Don then someone could challenge me to be Don. Is that a risk you are truly willing to take especially when I can offer you the peaceful death you wish. A death that you have a say in.” I defend.