Death Progress Bar Novels & Stories

I would watch them beg for the very scraps they denied me. The door splintered. A clawed, grey hand—long and skeletal—burst through the wood, inches from my face. The screech that followed was the sound of my death. Then, a sound that didn't belong in a world of screams echoed in the very center of my skull. **[DING!]** A semi-transparent, neon-blue screen flickered into existence, hovering in the air above my dying eyes. It pulsed with a rhythmic light. **[Life Force Depleting... 3%... 2%...]**

It was then that the countdown reached the final ten seconds. [Time Remaining Until Death: 10, 9, 8…] I collapsed onto the carpet beside the couch as a stabbing agony ripped through my organs like a dozen blades cutting through them. I curled up from the pain and coughed up a mouthful of necrotic blood, instantly staining the pure white rug Samuel loved. [3, 2, 1. Destruction protocol executed.] I could feel an irresistible, violent force ripping my soul from my body the moment the system's mechanical voice dropped. Following the agonizing pain, my consciousness plunged into infinite darkness, and my soul completely vanished.

We are building a fortress out of logic and lust. "We're close," Alex says, his rhythm picking up. "The compilation is at 90%." "Don't come yet," I beg, typing a final security patch. "Wait for the green light." "Hurry, Mia." I’m typing as fast as I can, my body shaking with every thrust. The screen is blurring. "Compiling!" I shout, hitting the final key. The progress bar races across the screen. 95%... 98%... "Now!" Alex roars.

“I’ve hacked worse.” His fingers danced. Menus nested under menus, some of them in text, some as abstract diagrams. He bypassed three access warnings, muttering under his breath. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a new window popped. LOG: CYCLE 271 – AUTHOR BURNOUT. There was no video. Just lines of text. KEY AUTHOR: [REDACTED] WORLD PROGRESSION: DRACULA → CARNIVAL → MIRROR → TOWER NOTES: AUTHOR ATTEMPTED CORE MERGE WITHOUT CONSENT PROTOCOL.

It was his lifeline. "System. Scrap it." Jake pressed his hand against the cold fuselage. [Detecting...] [Player owner deceased. Decomposition possible.] [Scrapping target: Military Helicopter.] [Warning: Target size is massive. Decomposition estimated time: 3 minutes.] "Three minutes?" Jake shot a look over his shoulder. No sign of the zombie yet. "Hurry. Hurry." He stared at the slow-creeping blue progress bar, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack a rib. Every second stretched into an eternity.

Don't stay awake for too long Don't go to bed I'll make a cup of coffee for your head I'll get you up and going out of bed Yeah, I don't wanna fall asleep I don't wanna pass away I been thinking of our future 'cause I'll never see those days I don't know why this has happened But I probably deserve it I tried to do my best But you know that I'm not perfect I been praying for forgiveness You've been praying for my health When I leave this earth Hoping you'll find someone else 'Cause yeah, we still young There's so much we haven't done Getting married, start a family Watch your husband with his son I wish it could be me But I won't make it off this bed I hope I go to heaven So I see you once a

I wasn't able to pull all of them out, although they would've survived even without my intervention. Perhaps that was true. They may not need any sort of assistance, but for sure I’m definitely not gonna regret everything, or better yet I cannot regret it. The other target had been successfully killed. The game had concluded and the killers were declared the winner of the tenth round. Based on my count, 25 people still remain alive, judging from the pace of the game… There are about two months before the game concludes its final stages. In those two months I could die. Perhaps I would be lucky to become the last one to survive. In that time do I even deserve to live? What would happen to me

3%. 'What's going on? Am I dead that I’m seeing things like this?' Gale, still not convinced of what he saw, tried to stand up and slapped himself. 'It hurts. This means I'm alive. But what the hell am I seeing now?' Realizing that everything might be true, he tried to think of closing the screen-like image in front of him, and to his surprise, it did close. He thought of opening it and it did. [System Sync Status: 2%]

Why was I still feeling these things when I was dead? Gary, Eugene, and Carl comforted Phoebe and told her to go upstairs. Then, they stood there in silence. Eugene stared at my photo, looking a little lost. "Did we… did we do something wrong?" The other two nodded. Carl said, "She prepared all of this before her death… which meant she knew she didn't have much time left. Do you remember what happened when we were younger? She said she saw countdown timers above Mom's and Dad's heads."

It was William, the Alpha from the Ice Plains Pack, standing behind me. His voice was filled with sorrow, "When you sent him to the Ice Plains, I knew he died painfully. But I didn’t expect... A ten-year-old cub, betrayed by his pack, mauled by lone wolves, abandoned by his father... and forced to watch himself bleed to death." Andrew's final memories were of waiting for death. Even if I had reached him in time, I wouldn’t have been able to save him because the only crystal healing chamber had been taken over by Lucas.