Death Star Soul Eater Novels & Stories

Four years after my death, the true heiress won the Best Actress award, but her sex tape was once again spread like wildfire. My Best Actor boyfriend, Nicholas Jennings, kicked open the rented house where I used to live, hoping to make me clarify once again that it was me in the video, but all he saw was a complete mess. The landlord happened to pass by and, upon his inquiry, scolded him, "You’re talking about Astrid Rhode? She died four years ago! A man saw the sex tape posted online and came here to have some fun with her, but she would rather die than comply. In a fit of rage, he killed her." Nicholas did not believe it at all. He kicked our couple's mugs. "Astrid made you say that, didn't she? She stole Maddie's life just because she looked like her. Did she think that helping Maddie once would atone for her sins? Tell her that none of the children in her orphanage will live if I don't see her clarification video in two days!" He strode away, and I shook my head with a wry smile. The orphanage had long since been reduced to ashes in the fire, and the children had already passed on to their next lives. I had made a deal with Death, wanting to come back and see him one last time. However, now, it seemed that the deal was better left undone.

The day before Chris Carter and I were supposed to get engaged, my parents sent me to prison. Three years later, when I was finally released, Chris was the only one who came to pick me up. I knew he despised me. I trembled, keeping my head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But he blocked my path, frowning. “Emily York? You stink.” He pinched his nose and told me to get in the car. I fell to my knees, desperately begging him not to take me home. If he did, I would die. He looked at me with chilling indifference and said, “Then go ahead and die.” I agreed. But later, he cried and begged me to stay alive.

At my coming-of-age ceremony, I confessed my feelings to Uncle Daniel, who wasn't blood-related to me. Yet, he sent me overseas to study. Later on, I was diagnosed with brain cancer. The headaches were brutal. Left without a choice, I turned to him for help. Yet, his first love accused me of being wasted abroad. Said I got into stuff. Claimed my pain were just withdrawals. He believed her and dragged me back home. He locked me up in the family's abandoned villa atop the mountains, guards watching me around the clock. With treatment delayed, my headaches grew worse. It was a complete nightmare. One night, I couldn't take it anymore. I quietly slipped out of the window and jumped. One year after my death, he finally remembers me.

My mate Jackson died saving me in the great fire. I couldn't accept the truth that he was gone, so I decided to end my life by jumping into the silver pit. But the Alpha David saved me—twice—while making his rounds among the soldiers. He stayed by my side, comforting me, afraid I might try to take my life again. Slowly, I began to accept the idea of being claimed by him. But then, at his birthday party, I overheard something that shattered me. "I want to claim her as my Luna," he said, "but I still can't compete with her deceased mate, even after being with her for three years. She always pulls away when I get close, and I give up each time because I don't want to force her. But if she were to die for me... my wolf would be overjoyed—he would finally have found his fated mate, someone willing to die for him." I was stunned—especially by the plan he revealed next. So, before he could put it into action, I decided to fake my own death. That day, dressed in a wedding gown, I walked into the sea right in front of him. Later, I heard he went mad, deploying every soldier he could to search for me. But when all efforts failed, he was left alone, kneeling by the shore, sobbing like a broken mate— the sea answering him with only silence.

Because I was born under the Moon’s blessing, my body ripened earlier than any she-wolf my age. On the night of my eighteenth turning, my brother—fearing I’d be force-claimed by brutes—entrusted me to his blood-oath brother: Silas, Alpha of the Northern Peak. The first time we met, his golden eyes locked on my bared neck and never left. His fangs sank into my scent gland that very night, claiming me beneath the full moon. For four years since, I’ve been his scribe by dawn light, and his whore by moonrise. He trained my body to fit his every hunger, covering me in bite marks, yet never left the Mating Mark that would make me his true mate. Four years later, his confidante from the Central Territories returned. He tore from my heat-soaked sheets without a backward glance, racing to the moon-platform to greet her. I followed, stomach hollow, scent glands throbbing with his phantom claim. Only an hour before, his hand—scarred from my own teeth—had clamped over my mouth as he rutted me into the furs. Now, before the assembled Pack, he stroked another woman’s silver hair. “Amara, don’t show that jealous look. Have you forgotten—four years ago, you were the one who crawled into my bed while I was moon-mad.” “This tantrum is unbecoming.” He was right. I had chosen this life myself. But when I finally chose to leave him, he was the first to break.

I decided to die on my 28th birthday. It was not suicide but homicide... by my dear sister, Susan Bruno. I had always known that she would kill me. I told my older brother, Barry Bruno, and he said, "Charlotte, don't always think so badly of Susan." I told my fiancé, Calvin Simmon, and he said, "You're making up a story to draw attention again." Hence, I decided to give them the evidence they wanted most—a corpse. I installed seven cameras, set up an automatic sending program, and wrote a farewell letter. I left clues for the killer, bait for Susan, and a time bomb for my family. Today, Susan texted: [Charlotte, Dad has something for you at the safe house.] I replied: [Coming.] Before leaving, I checked my to-do list one last time. Everything was checked off, except for one thing: death. I would die. They would never know that the moment my heart stopped beating... the countdown to revenge had only just begun.

My body drifted in the river for five years before a fishing enthusiast reeled it in. Even though the forensic pathologist managed to reconstruct my face from when I was alive through craniofacial reconstruction technology, the hatred my brother had for me remained as strong as ever. "That better be her body! She has been on the run for five years! Even in death, she doesn't deserve pity! In fact, it simply is a disgrace to have a murderer like her as the daughter of the Clarke family!" he hissed. Everyone thought he despised me with every fiber of his being. Yet, as he spoke, his entire body trembled. Who would have guessed that the distress call I made to him five years ago would end up becoming the main factor that hastened my death?

What would happen if the Angel of death had to take the place of Cupid?For causing a minor accident that resulted in Cupid Cerry being injured, the Angel Sue must receive punishment to replace Cupid Cerry's duties. The Angel of death must find a partner for a sick girl whose life is not long.However, who would have thought that Angel Sue could fall in love with the poor girl and make him have to be punished to live on Earth for a hundred years.What happened to Angel Sue after that?

At 10:00 pm sharp, a food deliveryman wearing a cap knocks on the door of Unit 502. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?" Unit 502 is an apartment that's rented out to multiple people. There are three rooms here altogether. The one opening the door is my roommate, William Yates. He has his headphones on and is currently immersed in a game. So, he waves a hand impatiently. "It wasn't me." The deliveryman wastes no time in pulling out a machete. Immediately, he slashes William's throat in one fluid motion. Next, the deliveryman opens the door leading to another bedroom while holding the takeout. "Did you order delivery?" That room belongs to a gym trainer named Leon Holton. He's obviously taken aback by the deliveryman's presence. "Nope. Who are—" The deliveryman doesn't give Leon a chance to finish his question. He reacts by plunging the machete into Leon's heart. When I'm done with my shower, I open the bathroom door to see large puddles of blood on the floor as well as the deliveryman, who's wielding a machete. "They weren't the ones who ordered delivery. Did you do it?" Scared out of my wits, I subconsciously shake my head. "It's not me! I don't know anything—" Before I can finish speaking, the deliveryman hacks me to death. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back five minutes in time before I get murdered in cold blood. Almost immediately, I rush out of the bathroom, only to see the alarmed expressions plastered all over William's and Leon's faces. That's when I'm certain that everyone has gotten reborn. Suddenly, the doorbell rings loudly. A suppressed masculine voice echoes afterward. "Excuse me, are you the one who ordered delivery?"

In the middle of a lively night, can you guess what's about to come? In the middle of the busy street, do you realize there is something in the dump? Shane Hoseinzade was peacefully sleeping on the floor when three conservative, loud knocks echoed inside. Would he open the door? On the other side, someone wearing a black cloak and holding a giant scythe is standing on the doorstep. With head bowed down, a pair of mismatched eyes glowed while staring at the door. Patiently waiting for the target to open the door. If you hear three violent knocks on your door at exactly midnight, would you dare to open the door? But what if those violent knocks are the knocks of the person you promised to marry in the future? Death? A grim reaper? A demon? Whoever it is, are you ready to face your fears?