Death Parade Nona Novels & Stories

It’s always the same look. Nonna’s mouth tightened. “You know why.” “It’s been a year, Nonna.” “And yet.” She didn’t say more. She didn’t have to. I turned back to the television, where they were showing the warehouse again. Yellow tape. Chalk outlines. The kind of death that was normal in our world, the kind people like papà didn’t even blink at. The kind I now had blood on my hands for. “I never wanted this,” I said quietly. “I never wanted to be part of any of this. The Mancinis killed mama. I won’t forget that. Sofia shouldn’t have to pay for a war that isn’t hers.”

“Don’t look away. Don’t change the channel. If you can demand a war, if you are brave enough to call for the wide-scale extermination of my people, the least you can do is have the courage to look at your handiwork.” The image changes again. Showing the scattered corpses of women and children in another forest. Zael’s voice fills the room. "They're all dead. They never stood a chance." He kneels next to a little baby, no older than a year. The child’s body is broken, and blood trickles from her little mouth, but it’s the gaping wound on the side of her head that really shocks me. “A little girl,” Zael says, his voice breaking. “It looks like they just caved her head in with a rock or somethi

She held her head that remembered everything. “It was the last time I killed countless people within a day. Man and woman, young and old people alike. Within a night, thousands of people died, and the Quislings were almost exterminated. The whole Aparctias and Thrascias Empire were in total chaos. Especially the main city.” She explained as her grip on her wine glass tightened.

The Cost of Victory Helena Moretti’s lifeless body sprawled on the ground, her blood pooling on the floors of cold marble. The woman who had wrought so much ruin, who had lied, connived and murdered without a second thought — was gone. Elara blew phantom smoke from the end of her gun. "Well, that was satisfying." No one responded. Because even though Helena Moretti was dead, the war wasn’t finished. Maya could feel it.

Nora, who managed to escape and find safety, goes there and upon finding Mercedes dead, covers her body with a sheet before leaving to help the wounded. What a cowardly act it is to kill an elderly woman who can't even defend herself! Mr. Egil Arrabal and his wife lie on the ground, together, surrounded by many bodies. The end of the Arrabal clan, desired by so many, had finally arrived.

There wasn't blood on her clothes like usual, she was wearing a pristine white dress, her hair braided, her eyes closed and a serene smile on her pale lips, as if she was finally freed from her miserable life. Nonna told me she was going to deep sleep where she would never wake. While Nonno implied she was dead, and was going to rot under the family grave. He was not sorry for her death, what he was sorry for was his son's death. "How are you so sure about that?" I questioned.

Valiant, honorable men and women died because of them and their evil ways. Naomi brushed away a tear that dropped from her eyes and collected the tag of the soldier she'd just covered. She didn't even know her name or whether she had dreams and aspirations other than fighting for the continent. Just another nameless soldier... But Naomi swore that she would never forget her or her sacrifice. Would never forget the sacrifices of everyone in all their camps. After a mass cremation that morning, the portion of the army that was to go to Volcaris started preparations for the journey in three days.

They slipped down in silence as she said in a broken voice, “My aunt… the last person I had left in this world… is dead.” Adham stepped closer without hesitation and said, “Come on, get in the car. I won’t leave you like this.” Yasser hurried forward and opened the rear door. Naomi got in, clutching her child tightly, as if seeking refuge from her collapse. Adham opened the front door and got in, while Yasser rushed to the driver’s seat, started the engine, and the car moved off.

Now he uses that memory to track me. "He’s here," I say. My voice is flat as weather. Salvatore’s rhythm breaks. --- The village is made of stones—gray, same color as the sky. Nonna stands in the doorway, not the apron-waving grandmother of my fantasies. She wears black widow’s weeds, cradling a double-barreled shotgun, stock pressed against her hip like she’s thirty. She’s eighty-two, but her spine is rebar. I push open the door before the jeep stops. My legs give out. I hit the ground, vomiting. Not morning sickness—blood taste, rising from my stomach, too much fear swallowed in the car.

Jade destroyed Sheela’s transformed soul with a single palm strike. Jade then rushed over to Nora Stewart. “Nora, Nora! How are you?” Nora’s eyes turned red, and she began to cry. “Sister, I won’t be able to fight with you anymore. Everyone, please take care. Even if I’m no longer around, the spirit of Flying Eagles must forever remain.” “Nora…” Everyone else in Flying Eagles was also heartbroken. Nora managed to escape death in Myriad Demon Valley. Nobody expected her to die here.