Death Note: Short Story Novels & Stories

But all it took was a slight raise of his hand, and the crowd quieted, their raucous voices stilled by his commanding presence. "I am Vincent Casper, chief medical examiner of Ariant City. I have invited official journalists from the central news channel and our city's primary media outlets to witness the live broadcast of the truth behind this murder case." Murder case?! The crowd buzzed again, shock rippling through the room. These reporters were expecting a scandal about plagiarism, some small tabloid fodder. Never in their wildest dreams did they imagine it would be tied to something as serious as a murder. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Charles and Arianna, subtly edgi

Flavian Moreno’s POV This story about Anabel's mother's death had become a challenge for me. I had never encountered anything so peculiar. And I had never come across an investigation so full of flaws. The detective who handled the case simply settled for what appearances indicated and closed the inquiry in less than twenty-four hours, listing the cause of death as suicide.

it was an erotic story ,titled the hot kidnapper) I raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in my eyes. I push off from the desk and walk closer, my heels clicking on the floor. “A story, huh? You think you can just walk in here and write a tale for me? How about you show me what you’re made of first? Tell me, what’s your fantasy? What gets you going in the dark?” I lean in, my breath warm against your ear, my large breasts pressing against your arm. (Pushing the paper to you I ask you to read it aloud ,you cheeks turn a faint red as you try to explain you brought the wrong story,I press a finger to your lips shushing you and telling you to read, you read it all)

“Ma’am, we can show you a photo first, so you can confirm whether it’s your daughter. It’s just… when we found her, she had been dead for three days, and the body had started to decompose. You should prepare yourself.” With that, he pulled out a photo from the scene and handed it to her. In the picture, a small, blood-soaked body—mine—was curled up on the bed in an unnatural position. My colorless lips and my sickly, bluish-purple skin told her one thing: I was dead. Mom’s eyes widened. At last, she could no longer lie to herself and burst into tears. “How could this happen? How could this be? She was fine just a few days ago. How could she be dead? Daisy, you cursed child, you’re just like