Death Note L's Death Episode の小説・ストーリー

The bullet hit Liene’s head. Her blood splashed on my face. At that moment, I didn't think I could still hold her on so I let myself witness the fall of the Sun. Liene was gone. Her own kin slaughtered her. Everything went so fast for me, making it so hard to believe that this was real. How could she die? How could he kill her? I . . . desired to know the answers to my endless questions. I was completely bloodstained as something exploded. I slowly gazed in front of me.

The smell of lilies was always the first thing to return. It was the scent of my own funeral, a cloying sweetness that made me want to gag. I opened my eyes and didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just counted the cracks in the gold-leaf ceiling of the ducal bedchamber. One, two, three... I knew them all. I had memorized them while gasping my last breath in Life Four. I had stared at them while my vision went black in Life Seven.

It meant that from the moment Dante entered the hall to the moment he left, the only people he looked at were the four of us. I said blankly, “It really does look like one of us is the Godfather’s true love.” “There’s no way to tell who he was looking at,” Blair said with a sigh. “But that smile was way too obvious.” The four of us exchanged silent looks, fear filling our eyes. If we didn’t all retain memories of our brutal deaths from past lives, none of this would even be explainable. “If it really is one of us,” Chloe whispered, trembling, tears pooling in her eyes, “then why… why did he kill every single one of us?”

was a copy of me with my memories and my thought patterns, he was still a separate entity. If he were just an NPC generated by the game, then after getting blown up, he should reset and respawn in the next loop. But what if, in this death-loop game, he was an actual independent life form? What if he were someone like me, another player bound by the same rules? I rolled out of bed, rushed into the living room, and grabbed my phone from the corner. The whole process of my last death was recorded clearly on it. I watched myself die. Because gasoline vapor was actually more flammable than liquid gas, he actually died before I did. And then, after he died, I was burned alive by the gasoline.

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

A smear of crimson is on her lips, the drops I forced there with hands that were steadier than my conscience. There's no pulse. No breath. Her eyelashes rest against skin thats already turning pale. She's too still. It's not sleep. It's not unconsciousness. She's gone. I've seen thousands of people dead. Men killed on battlefields. Women burned in sanctuaries. Children thrown into plague pits like discarded clothes. Death doesn't interest me much anymore. This one does. I told myself to walk It's a practical.thought. If the blood doesn't work, the problem solves itself. If it takes hold, distance will keep judgment from clouding what needs to be done.

It’s the usual for Yumeko, focusing more on her phone. Suddenly, Nabi pauses, her gaze locked on the cafeteria’s television, where the big news is being displayed. “Ya, is that not your street? It sounded familiar, I thought I’d ask you about it, I wasn’t sure.” I glance at the television screen with the headline, “Unfortunate sudden encounter with Lucifer heirs, found dead and dumped this morning.” On the screen is a picture of dead Nevan, his eyes were plucked out as if to stop him from seeing something, his neck bone broken, so he’s kept in a terrible posture.

His hands were tight on my neck, and it was sucking the life out of me. “The future Luna got depressed about her parent's death, and so she had to kill herself to get rid of the pain. We tried to stop her, but it was too late. That's a catchy reason for your death, don't you think?” Lucien sneered. I couldn't speak and tried to push him away, but his grip tightened more. I was slowly running out of breath, so I did the only thing that came to my mind then. I kicked him in the groin and he released me. I started rushing out of the room, but I halted when I felt something pierce my flesh.

I stared at the message, heart thudding louder with every second. “You’re next. – L.” “No. That’s impossible,” I whispered. “Leo’s dead. We saw the video, Justin.” He didn’t look away from the screen. To be continued... “Exactly. We saw what he wanted us to see.”

said Liam, throwing me a glance as I parted the body bag. A few quick glances over her mutilated corpse and I was done. I zipped the bag back up, the blood draining from my face. "I did try to warn you," he said from next to me, but he sounded like he was underwater as flashes of my last kill flooded my brain. "It's a unique take on Lingchi AKA—" "Death by a thousand cuts," I said, just barely acknowledging Liam. What I just saw was impossible. The precision of the cuts. Down to the very last one. All in exactly the right places. This was impossible. Unless—