Death Note One-shot Novels & Stories

Weird. I took a shower and went to knock on my mom's door. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. I twisted the handle and the door opened. Mom isn't in her bed. On the nightstand, I found a note. When I read the note, I panicked and ran to Kel's room " Kel! Kelvin!" I shook him awake " What?" He replied me sleepily " I think something's happened to mom, something is wrong" This woke him up completely.

He paused deliberately, his eyes flickering ever so subtly in my direction. The room fell deathly silent. Everyone waited, holding their breath for the final pronouncement. "Murder." The word hit like a thunderclap, echoing in the shocked silence. Chaos erupted once more, the noise from the reporters deafening, while online, the live stream chat exploded with comments: "Sabrina is dead!?" "No way! How is this possible?!" "Murder? What is he saying? That Arianna and Charles killed her?" "OMG, this is wild!"

--- *Monday | 1:00am | Alone* Elena was still in her office. Her phone buzzed. Unknown number. No text. Just a photo. It was the original sign-in sheet. With V.C. circled in red. Sender: Unknown. Elena deleted it. She sat in the dark thinking about how easy it was to burn something down. And how much harder it was to prove who lit the match when the match was never meant to be found. ---

I was delighted. I sent all the racy photos that Melody had sent to me to Brandon through an anonymous account. Then, I secretly observed Brandon's reaction in the office. I never knew how thrilling that could be. Sure enough, I soon heard Brandon on a phone call arguing in the stairwell. Even though the conversation was one-sided, I knew that the person on the other end of the line was Melody. 'Melody. Brandon. This is just the beginning. Don't get too excited too soon.'

I said, handing him the paper. He took the crumpled note, skimmed the message then popped the locks. "In the back," he said, motioning with his thumb. We pulled away from the curb and I shuddered. Even with the growing distance between us, I could feel the tattooed man's murderous gaze, signing my death warrant. The streets flew by my window, blurring into one long, pastel streak. Not that I cared. The walled cities always looked the same, with every building a minimum of two stories high, painted in one of four pastel shades and a single coded steel door at its front.

Next Morning, in his shoe locker, Kimura found a thick envelope marked CONFIDENTIAL – DUE DILIGENCE REPORT. Subject: Asset Re-Evaluation of Takuto Kimura Core Strength: Mathematics Proficiency (★★★☆) Risk Factor: Suspected “Past Life Memory Retention” (Value downgraded by 50%) Discovery: Possible unresolved karmic debt with majority shareholder Misaki Kanzaki Attached to the final page— A black-and-white photo of Kimura’s funeral from his past life. In the corner stood a young girl in black, holding a flower. Kimura’s hand trembled. “That’s… Misaki?!”

To help her childhood sweetheart, David Middleton, take my place studying abroad, my wife, Sharon Griffin, destroys my records and deliberately fills in false information, ensuring that I'm permanently denied a visa. She even severely injured my hands before sending me to the Behavioral Reform Center. My mother-in-law, Paula Brown, who has always treated me with affection, takes Sharon's side. "Kyle is so ungrateful. We gave him everything, and he still wanted to get a PhD abroad to find his biological parents. Who's going to take care of me if he's gone?" Sharon snorts. "He's just vain. When he found out I'd turned down Westbridge's offer of admission, he gave me the silent treatment an

Barely. “Tomorrow,” I whispered, leaning close to brush my lips against her ear. “Dream about me tonight, Princess.” I slipped from her room, walking quickly down the hall, careful not to make a sound. Relief hit when I shut the door to my own room. “This is fucking nerve-wracking,” I muttered, stripping off my shirt. But then my eyes caught a folded piece of paper on the bedside lamp. My pulse spiked. I picked it up, scanning the words.

TRIGGER WARNING: CHAPTER CONTAINS CONTENT THAT MAY BE UNPLEASANT TO SOME READERS; SUICIDE. VIEWER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED. It was silent. Dead silent. No one moved, and it seemed everyone was holding their breath. Out of shock, Leonardo let go of her collar, and Natasha dropped to the ground, blood gushing out from her chest and mouth. Within seconds, she was dead. Seconds. The silence grew so thick that you could hear everyone’s heart racing. And then it was broken by a small, shaky voice, “I’m sorry.”

A handwritten note. My eyes moved across the words. THE FIRST BLOOD DOES NOT DIE. Lena read it aloud. Her voice shook slightly. “What does that mean?” Before I could answer, the archive lights came on. All at once. A woman stood at the far end of the room. Elara Voss. Alive. Again. She wore the same dark coat as before. The silver pendant hung around her neck. Lena stepped forward. “You're Elara.” The woman smiled. “Yes.” “You're supposed to be dead.”