Novel & Cerita Death Stare

Oliver ordered him, but it didn't break him. "I...I can't..." He replied hesitantly. He loved his business more than his life and didn't want all those dark secrets to come out, for they could destroy everything. "I'm asking one last time... WHO IS IT!!?" Oliver lost his temper. The man on the gunpoint stayed quiet and didn't even move a little. He lowered his head and just waited for his death. "Sorry then..." Oliver said one last time before he pulled the trigger. The bullet went into his head, causing immediate death. Oliver didn't even flinch or have a disturbed expression on his face after killing that guy.

"You bitch. You were lucky this time, but you won't get off so easily next time. "If you're smart, you should leave Taverdale as soon as possible. Or you might very well end up dead." "Shannon, I won't die. I'll show you how well I can survive," Celeste said blandly as she touched her wrist. She had already died once. She would never again allow herself to go back to the edge. "As for you and Hannah, you two deserve to rot in hell! And Henry, too! He'll never know peace!" …

Maybe even…dead. ***

"Tell me it's fake. The death certificate—it's fake, right? He's not dead!" Danny exhaled hard, eyes already heavy with the answer. He pulled out a stack of papers and slid them over. "I'm sorry, Dr. Foster. It's real." On top—plain and brutal: [William Wright. Date of Death: March 17, 2020. Cause: hemorrhagic shock.] Delia jerked her hand back like it burned, then snatched the page again, her fingers shaking. A tear hit the corner, smearing the ink. "No... this isn't possible..."

“I love you so much, Mom and Dad.” Adrastos took the microphone. “Good night, viewers! This is the end of the day because Derrick has passed away!” “If you want to watch someone die in front of your eyes again, then come back here tomorrow because we’ll have a new victim to kill!”

Everyone tried to be as polite as they can be as they take the stage and report the details of the case to the ears. August started with his Muddy Waters grit, "The deceased is a miss Ana Esther Rodrigues; 29 of age and of Brazilian descent. She was found this morning at 4:07 am by a local lying easily 30 miles away; but it was obvious that she just came from the party. Forensic said that the cause of death was a blunt trauma to the back of her head," everyone gasped. GD covered his mouths with their hand; Albert looked even angrier in disbelief; and the rest were taking their eyes to a sullen state as they fill the room.

She claimed she had more to confess and insisted on seeing Henry. When she met with Henry, she immediately retrieved the hairpin that she hid and stabbed it right into Henry's heart. Henry died on the spot from excessive blood loss. Nora was soon executed as well. I heard that before she died, she kept apologizing to me. However, I no longer had any feelings for her. With the approval documents in hand, I took the train back to North Westonia. I was going to spend the rest of my life there, devoting it entirely to national defense.

At that time I realized that the silence of loneliness was sad and suffocating. On the other hand, I can’t help but blame myself for what happened. However, I know more than anyone else that if I don’t fetch his soul someone else will do it. Death is not something that a person or anyone in the world has control over especially if a person’s death is predestined and written. I learned CSA killed Mr Perelman or Central Sleep Apnea a condition wherein a person pauses in breathing due to a lack of respiratory effort during sleep. That’s the thing Hazel explained to us when we last got together after the funeral.

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 don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.