Death Magic Novels & Stories

She grimaced in pain but relaxed afterward. The longer Demetria siphoned her blood, the dizziness returned in full force. She thought all the blood in her body had been drained. She began to hallucinate, seeing herself being sucked into an endless void. The darkness was terrifying and suffocating. She was terrified because all she saw around her was darkness, as if she had been transported to another dimension. She could no longer see and feel Demetria’s presence. Is she dying? Did Demetria bleed her to death and she pass away?

Only one. Death Death is painful yet straightforward. By beheading, or a Darkling consumes them from within their soulless bodies. Once complete, they will turn to the ash from their birthright grounds. “How strange, yet sad,” I think while strumming my finger across the edge of the page. I sit and wonder how those women caused so much destruction and how so many loved them. The reality hits me like a ton of bricks. “... Sam! I bet this had to do with him!” I say his name an octave too loud.

Death was a tall 6'5", slim man with mostly pale skin. His arms, like his legs, were pitch black. His hair was long, about shoulder length, and almost as dark as his limbs. Death was wearing a dark purple robe that went down to the top of his shins with a hood on the back. The sleeves were long enough to cover his lanky arms. His office was a simple room, about eight-hundred square feet, with grey walls. There was a desk and a plaque behind the desk that reads "Memento Mori" Death didn't care for the plaque and often saw it as kind of a joke. He was given it as a gift though, so he kept it hung up at all times, hoping his new recruits wouldn't notice.

“How do we kill this psychotic, power-draining, soul-sucking mummy? Like, for good. Ashes-to-ashes, no-sequels kinda deal.” Charlie stared at her. “Did you just ask me how to permanently kill someone who is technically already dead?” She nodded. “I did.” He sighed deeply. “You people are so exhausting.” “I think that’s a yes,” Tora quipped. Chelsea arched a brow. “So... is there a spell? A ritual? Do we need a unicorn horn and three drops of phoenix tears or what?” Charlie waved her off. “No unicorns. They’re prissy and full of themselves.”

girl:- do you want to share news, I heard your father is dead, I feel bad, even if you wanted to kill him, he also looks at me with bad intention demon:- I was the reason he died, I killed him, I thought my emptiness would disappear but it's only getting worst day by day, I wanted to kill myself. girl:- I know I can not help, you have everything, nothing can I offer, but I still want you to live. demon:- I am trying, I want my death would be grand, and benefited the world. girl:- don't tell me you are going be soldiers and die for your country.

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.

Devon said. I remember what Luna said about the hatred that she can sense in me before the accident happened. It is because my dad died in a hard way. His cancer killed him. I can’t accept that he will die just like that. There’s a lot of war that he has been through. He went to Afghanistan and he survived. And because of cancer, he died. He lost the battle. I know my dad is a good person and he doesn't deserve to have cancer. I never talked to God after my dad died. I questioned him but I didn't see any answer. That is why I stopped talking to God and that is the hatred that Luna can sense from me.

she mumbles, her eyes wide. I exhale a huge lung full of smoke and relish the calm feeling for a second. “He’s not only the Flying Death, he’s the reaper and I’m pretty sure your time is up lady,” Missile says, laughing as I hand him back the joint. Just then the rumble of some motorcycles filters into the lot and I can only crack my neck. Her eyes gloss over and her heart rate goes bonkers. I like seeing her sweat. “Have you had any other children,” I ask, rubbing my beard.

she replied, touching his groin area. "Nera no… please stop!" "Why? Because you are fucking married?" She laughed. "Nera, once we open this closed Pandora's box, it will eventually be our end," Frank warned her. It was no secret that he still loved her; her hands on him were bringing back memories that he wished were buried and he was already getting hard from her rubbing him. "I am already dead; you killed me four years ago; this here is just a walking corpse," she confessed. Frank finally looked into her sad eyes.

She goes where she has always gone. "I found a ledger," I say, and my voice comes out in the low careful dialect I have learned from listening to her, the register of a woman asking another woman to carry what she cannot carry herself. "In the chapel vault. It has an authorization code for a death that happened two years ago, a death that was ordered from inside this family, and the code matches the payroll sheets I transcribed in my first week. The same block letters. The same purple ink. A single initial." Nonna Carmela taps her forefinger twice on the stone lip of the well.