Death Takes A Holiday Supernatural Novels & Stories

I opened up my gate and entered my house and received the shock of my life when I saw Death, sitting on the couch, staring right at me with his silver box, once again, in his hand. "Death, you're up late." "I could say the same about you." He looked strangely bright and happy, like he was finally getting something he'd been waiting for eternity. "Why so happy Death?" I asked. This made his smile grow larger, "You and Haydon...You both have no clue what you're helping me to do." And now he smirked darkly sending chills up my spine. "What do you mean?" He just shrugged, smiled darkly and then left. But death left me behind with an uneasy feeling. Whatever he was planning, it wasn't good.

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."

Eventually, I moved on to a new home, a new job, and a new life. One day, I received a call from the police. The officer said, "Ms. Sawyer, good evening. We found a man who froze to death overnight at a cemetery. "He was heavily intoxicated. We traced his records and found that you were listed as his emergency contact." I exhaled slowly. "I used to be, but not anymore. Please proceed with your standard protocols." "Understood. Sorry to disturb you." After hanging up, I looked toward the sky and whispered a quiet prayer. I asked the universe to send kindness to those who truly needed it.

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.

This so called demons don’t want me to take a breather. I can’t even enjoy my best festive season. From fighting Gyllou to trying to save the town from impending doom —again. This is tiresome. Let’s get on with this, shall we? THIS IS THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS; NOT WITH A BANG OR WHIMPER, BUT WITH ZOMBIES BREAKING DOWN THE BACK DOOR ➔ AMANDA HOCKING, HOLLOWLAND When everyone is sleeping with their loved ones, one crazy ass person stands alone in the middle of the night at the cemetery about to raise the dead. Jessica stands at the centre of the cemetery holding a dirty scroll and bottle she got from Abaddon

"So there's a party tonight at Xander's. You are highly invited." "Do you realize that someone is dead? Do you realize that people have been dying since last week? Do you fucking realize that at all?" She stepped back. "Uhm, isn't it a disease breakout or something?" "What? A disease breakout and you're fucking standing on your feet?"I looked at everyone standing and listening to me. "It's no fucking break out, get that? Someone is out there killing people and we're just living like today's going to be our last day. Did Henshaw know he was going to die that day? Did Mereba? Did Igor? Did the fucking bouncer know? Did Scarlett know she was going to meet her death today? Did my mother?!"

“How do we kill this psychotic, power-draining, soul-sucking mummy? Like, for good. Ashes-to-ashes, no-sequels kinda deal.” Charlie stared at her. “Did you just ask me how to permanently kill someone who is technically already dead?” She nodded. “I did.” He sighed deeply. “You people are so exhausting.” “I think that’s a yes,” Tora quipped. Chelsea arched a brow. “So... is there a spell? A ritual? Do we need a unicorn horn and three drops of phoenix tears or what?” Charlie waved her off. “No unicorns. They’re prissy and full of themselves.”

None of the five Holiday offspring had believed their father when he'd told them that their family was descended from the ancient Celtic spirits of the seasons. It was a coincidence, they'd all figured, that each of them had been born on a holiday - whether a modern one, like Valentine, the middle brother, or an ancient one, like Summer, the older of the two girls who was born on midsummer's day. Sam had gotten both - Halloween, the modern holiday, and Samhain, the ancient festival. He still blessed his parents for calling him just Sam, even though they'd meant to name him Samhain.

Beth smirked as she cocked the gun and squinted at me. I'm so scared, I think this is the end of the world for me. "Don't kill me! It's a pity!" I begged Beth but she laughed out loud like a demon. "Goodbye Agatha... just say hello to Don Jose in heaven," he said while holding the gun. "Don't!" I screamed but saw that my chest was covered in blood. While the darkness is slowly engulfing me, I can still see Beth's loud laughter. "My son..." was the last word I said,