Death Wings Novels & Stories

“Orion Astor, I said I won’t even touch a hair of yours, yet I’ll show you the hell; you hurt my woman again and again; I tried to go easy on you, I always thought I’d send you peacefully since your twins saved my wife with his life, and he was the person who deserves I, David Xiver, and Kate David Xiver’s respect, so I tested you, yet you dared to think about touching my woman and taint her, So I gave you the horrific death you deserve, from now on, from just exactly 1 hour later, your body will slowly turn blue, and one more hour later, it will turn black, then your nerves will rip apart one by one, and your organs will root then your body meat will root, and you will die most painfully, b

"But I remember the feeling of your hand in mine. And I would rather die in this life than live in one where I don't know your name." ​"Then you will die together!" Silas roared. ​He waved his hand, and the stained-glass windows of the Great Hall shattered. From the darkness outside, a thousand black-winged Reapers poured in, their mechanical stingers humming with the frequency of death. ​"Back to back?" I asked, stepping up to Julian’s side, my Scythe humming in sync with his sword. ​Julian looked at me, a wolfish, familiar smile touching his lips. The silver marks on his face were fully active now, glowing with a brilliance that blinded the front row of nobles.

/ He laughed loudly, swinging his bat and hitting brittle objects in the fancy hotel. He is a Death Angel, his name is Draven Black. A modern-day grim reaper, wearing not a cape but a black emo suit with a pair of black wings to fly. He does not have a scythe, he has a bat for beating humans. His look is completed by black hair and an upside-down cross hung in his left ear.

I answered curtly. "Brilliant." He grinned grimly, showcasing his rows of sharp teeth. Dazzlingly white and pointed. The blank piece of paper that sat on top of the briefcase began to bleed with words and formed sentences. "I, Death, agree to grant Reniella De Vega a single wish if she successfully collects the soul of Deshawn Cervantes within the time period," he read out from memory. Then, he fished a ballpoint pen from the inside of his suit jacket and placed it next to the paper.

Nyra and Selene turned to leave, shoulders touching in unity, but a soft rustle made them pause. Ember opened her silver-eyed gaze ;, she smiled sleepily, then closed her lids. Ashen shifted, her obsidian eyes fluttered open, just a slit. Nyra froze, her breath caught. Ashen sat up, small hand reaching toward the window’s last golden glow. She whispered, voice faint but chilling : “Mother…” Selene spun, Nyra’s heart thundered. Ashen’s lips curved in that same terrible smile. Her single heartbeat echoed… “I am Death.”

Noticing his expression, Wendy suddenly smiled and said frankly, "You're older than me, so I'll call you Mr. Fleming. Actually, after dying, I found it pretty amazing. There's no heat or cold, no need to shower or change clothes, and no need to eat or sleep." "I've experienced that too," Dominic said quietly. Wendy looked startled and suddenly thought of something. She made a soft sound and said, "Hey, could it be that day…" "Yes," Dominic said with a nod. "That day, I really did die." "So, you ran into actual Grim Reapers down there, and now you are some kind of underworld representative," Wendy said, her eyes lighting up. She was a hardcore fantasy reader, and admiration filled her gaze as

Dante asked and took the phone from Dell but as soon as he looked at the phone it slowly fell from his hand, “The Alpha King Of Black Wolves Pack is dead”

The kind of gait that does not announce itself because it has never needed to. I stand. I do not smooth my skirt or touch my hair. I turn toward the north wing and wait with my hands at my sides. He comes through the loggia in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow, and the first thing I register is the breadth of his shoulders, the way they fill the narrow stone passage. The second thing is his face. Sun-weathered, the kind of tan that has been laid down over years and never quite fades, and under it a stillness in the jaw and around the eyes that reads like grief held so long it has stopped being an event and become architecture. He is thirty-four, according to the briefing the

She looked at me, "Are you sure you want to make her join the Trials, Dai?" What a stupid question. "Of course, I do, mom! Come on, guys. We are talking about Nsomi Eileithya D'Arcy! I can't let her get away with what she did," I looked at all of them. "And I believe each and all of us, hate her for causing the death of our loved ones! Take her own family and my sister as an example. They all had horrible deaths because of her damn power. Do you think it's okay to let her go like that just because she saw her own death? Yes, it must have been fucked up. But she's used to that now. As she said, everyone will die someday, so what's the problem with her death? I would one hundred percent prefer

In the end, they decided to work for AB organization and soon just vanished as if kept underground, reserved for a certain use. "He sold his daughter and wife after some time. In the end, was killed one night, by his son, Ryan Williams." The ending left them all shocked. There were two things they didn't saw coming in it and the third was yet to come. "Who is he?" Jane asked and Levi nodded. He was searching for a picture of Ryan Williams, his fingers typing fast on the keyboard of the laptop, which suddenly paused and he turned pale. "What?" They asked him but he didn't move.