Death Race Three Novels & Stories

Leo's brother handed me a blade, asking if I wanted to finish them myself. "No, thanks." I shook my head. I was not bloodthirsty. Lucas Goldmane raised his eyebrows in surprise, thinking I was going to spare them. Instead, I pulled out several poison pills and had Lucas force them down their throats. There was no point getting my hands dirty. This kind of death was more fitting for their crimes than a clean kill. After finishing this, I turned to leave, but Mother's screams echoed behind me as she regained consciousness. "Help!"

A middle-aged woman catches the shirt tail of Gangster number three who has wavered between saving his boss and his own hide. The members of the Transmigration Bureau aren’t as lucky. Spinstra has had the foresight to steal into Death’s office and, with her vile accomplice Kharon, massacres the clueless Helter-Skeltals along the way. Upon reaching Hell’s Helm, they then ambush the preoccupied reapers, stabbing one in the back, slicing another’s throat and impaling the third with a sword shaped like a giant insect’s mandible.

His voice came out dry. "You hemorrhaged and fell into a coma for three days. When you woke up, the doctor said the baby didn’t make it… that it was gone." Summer leaned back against the couch and let out a mocking laugh. "Lennie, even if that little girl had lived, she would’ve just been a burden anyway. Not like our Cody. He’s actually worth something." Dorian’s face went pale as he snapped his head toward her. "Summer, that’s enough." I jerked my head up, locking my gaze onto him. My mind went blank.

There was no news, no information about them, not from any person or even the internet. Oliver was relieved and believed that she died and that they won the game. But Thomas, he could never get rid of the fear that someday they would come back and get their revenge. And now here he was, in front of his warehouse, watching it burn to ash, and reading the note that was written with blood in the same way as 6 years ago. The effect it held on him was similar too. He stepped back but tripped and fell on the floor. He began longing for air and started coughing loudly.

Would you like to continue your mission? I was stunned to hear the system say that, and I stared at my mother with bewildered eyes. Despite that, I still shook my head. "No." Loving someone was far too exhausting. Besides, I had already spent twenty-six years loving four women with everything I had. "System, kill me. I'm exhausted. I only want to sleep." I closed my eyes and waited, but the electric shock I was expecting never came. Instead, the system gave me a new notification. 'This body will die in three days, so you may return to your original world then.'

Hank tries a symbol, but nothing happens. “Be careful,” Damon warns. “There could be a limit to how many mistakes we can make.” “Or some kind of punishment,” Elena says. That possibility is enough to push me close to the edge of panic. Taking a deep breath, I step back, trying to get a wider view of the surface. And then I see it. Like a sudden flash of knowledge, it hits me. "It's threes," I say, pointing. "Three symbols light up at a time."

" Mia asked. She was standing beside me, still recovering from the fight, one hand pressed against her ribs where the scout had hit her. I could tell she was in pain but refusing to show it. Stubborn. Always so damn stubborn. Dracula highlighted a different route with a gesture. This one was more direct, shorter by what looked like several worlds. But it passed through three zones that glowed with particularly ominous red—the color of maximum danger, of worlds designed specifically to kill. "This is your only viable option. Three worlds between here and the Core. Each one deadlier than anything you've faced before. Each one specifically designed to break deadies psychologically and physicall

His arm was bleeding. The third man came at him with a crowbar. Wesley twisted around him, drove the hilt of the blade into the base of his skull. Three. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look away. He moved through them like water cutting through stone. Not flawless—he took a hit to the ribs, elbowed one man so hard I saw teeth fly—but unstoppable. By the time it was over, five men lay sprawled on the ground, dead. One was still alive.

His eyes were wide open, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. A scream escaped my mother's lips, which only enraged my father further. He swung the knife wildly, striking her again and again. "All of you must die! You must pay for what you did to my daughter!" My mother's struggles gradually weakened. Soon, she lay still. Then, my father collapsed into the pool of blood, smiling as he looked at my photo. "It's okay, Vanessa. I have killed all the bad people for you." Alas, I had turned away from the scene the second he started his killing spree, unable to bear the bloody scene before me.

The crowd parted. Mom ordered someone to overturn the rickety bed. Inside was a water bottle filled with ashen gray bones. "A cheap fake death trick!" she spat, her eyes burning with malice as she glared at the doorway. "Cassidy! If you don't come out now, I'll make sure you never earn a single cent doing odd jobs!" I shivered at her words, hovering beside her. Three years ago, she had used the same tone to threaten me. "If you don't donate your bone marrow to your sister, I'll make sure you can't even sit for your exams!"