Death's Game Novels & Stories

And then, then she would finally understand that not even death would put us apart. The games began when you deceived me, Naomi. You might have started this, but I'm in charge. And not even death would deliver you. Because I am death itself. See you soon, my queen.

Stephen said, noticing Bryan's emotions and he nodded, bending over to carry the sack with him. “The cameras?” Stephen suddenly asked on getting to the main door. “They haven't been functioning for a week now” Bryan said and Stephen muttered a simple reply before they finally opened the door. “Peep out.” Bryan whispered and Stephen nodded, looking around to see if anyone was around. “It's safe” Stephen replied and immediately, they carried Alessia's corpse, moving out of the house without hesitation… There wasn't an extra time for the opening of the booth so they dropped her in the backseat, closing the car door immediately.

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

I was going to intercept his shipments, turn his allies against him, and meet him on the battlefield of the underworld—and he wouldn't even know it was me until I was holding the knife to his throat. "Let the game begin, Kai," I whispered into the dark.

Finally, Emmett spoke, his voice tight, "India, run. I’ll hold them off." I shook my head gently. "There are cameras everywhere outside. I can’t get away." My parents’ eyes reddened instantly. I took a deep breath, my expression turning serious. "Mom, Dad, Emmett, there’s something I need to tell you. There’s not much time. I’ll keep it short." They exchanged glances but didn’t interrupt. I clenched my hands and glanced at the dark night outside, at the bloodstains on the wall. Then I spoke, "I’ve already died four times. This is my fifth loop."

The eighth time I catch Philip Mumford cheating on me, he pours a bottle of concentrated disinfectant over his groin. "Happy now?" Amid the wreckage, his face is deathly pale as he looks at me like I'm the one who has lost my mind. It's the first time he's ever backed down. I stand frozen, clutching a piece of broken porcelain, suddenly feeling completely lost. During our worst fight, I strap dynamite to myself and his mistress, forcing him to choose between us. In response, he has himself and my parents tied to five semitrucks chained together, then smiles and asks if I still want him to choose. That's how we spent ten years torturing each other, neither of us willing to give in, bac

This wasn't happening—Tyler was supposed to be the male lead. He was supposed to defeat the forces of evil, why was he dead? My mind was in a dark pit of confusion, it only took the cold feel of blood splashing on my skin to put me back to my senses. “Player 78, 90, 67, 64, and 88, are dead," the system announced. A cold chill ran across my body as I glanced upon the ground, now covered with huge chunks of human flesh and blood. Immediately, I felt sick to my stomach, and without a moment of hesitation I slumped to my knees, puking my guts out.

“No prank, newbie. You’re dead.” “Bullshit.” He shrugged. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.” “Okay, fine,” I said, crossing my arms. “Let’s say I am dead. Why the hell am I on a bus headed to God knows where? And what happens if I don’t play your stupid little game?” He leaned closer. “Then you die. Eternal soul destructional final death. There's no coming back from that one, newbie.” Something in his tone that made my stomach twist. It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. He wasn't fucking around.

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."

“I am tied up like this, how can I talk to you? Release." "Do not want. We will have three games. I choose the first game next will be the last brother will be one of the three of them. Accept?" "Depends." “My game is very uncomplicated. Answer the question. The rules of the game are very simple. If you answer three questions correctly I will release one of them and if you do not answer one of them. some of them will die. Then it will be more fun.” "Is that interesting? As far as I remember things like this, you like it."