Death Writing Novels & Stories

"nique-" A warm sensation embraced my body. A heard a voice in the distance. Ahh... So this is death huh....... I thought it would be worse... But this is actually quite nice... "minique, wake up!" The voice was getting closer, I also heard steps approaching. Death... Is that you? Are you coming for my soul?... Well, I guess it was nice while it lasted... Time to be part of the eternal nothingness of space... Man... Who would think that death would sound like a little girl... The universe sure is weird...

Original Death is watching with patience that feels like inevitability. And the clock is ticking toward extinction.

He was also crying but he still put me first because I felt like I was going to faint from what I witnessed. Just like in my dream. It is true that Don Jose is dead. His body was so decomposed that we buried him without opening the coffin. Just like papa, we will also cremate Don Jose's body. All relatives and acquaintances of Don Jose attended. Almost all the townspeople sympathized with the loss of Don Jose. Even so, security is still tight at the Mansion because Beth has not been caught yet.

I had been planning to be at the West Mountain Pack anyway to celebrate Lily’s 14th birthday. As a doctor, death is not a foreign concept for me. The reality of my job is that I regularly encounter dying or deceased werewolves, and I work with a lot of grieving families. It is not uncommon in either the human or werewolf worlds to paint the dead with rose-colored glasses. For example, I have regularly seen drunken, abusive a&&holes eulogized as caring, dedicated fathers.

"What do you mean when you say one death will be less awful than the other?" Alexander sighed heavily. "First death will be one where I die without chasing the love I have for you, thus Starving my Soulpearl of his half and the experience that comes with it and like the fishes I die with an empty belly, starved, with no meaning to the life spent, and while the other death is one where I die knowing that I gave my chase its best, ate of my treats until my Soulpearl content and die with a smile and the memories of the life spent with you, just like the fishes who are swept away by the fishermerman's nets and died but with filled stomach and happy memories, in the end, there will be death but o

I had perished. Not unlike the countless deaths I'd endured before. This passing was but a fragment of the countless I'd faced—a normal cycle, an incessant fate I bore. Death was a well-worn garment, woven into my existence, its fibers intertwined with my soul. The past bore witness to my numerous deaths, each accompanied by rebirth—a perpetual choreography of demise and resurrection. In the grand tapestry of existence, the cycle of life and death emerged as an unyielding thread. An unending loop, an eternal heartbeat.

Without another word to William…? ‘Look on the bright side… Normally, for other species… once they die, they die alone. If they’re lucky enough, they may die with their loved ones nearby, but that does not make it any easier to handle… For werewolves, however… Once they die, they won’t die alone. They have their wolves, who share their fate.’ If Jengo wanted to, he would smile at the fact pointed out. Maybe even chuckle, if he had the strength to. ‘Way to make death sound a little easier to handle for me…’

Her article would need corroborating witnesses that weren’t her or Dave. Acheki reached out to her for her statement. “Are you ready to give your statement?” “Yes, but has anything come about with Junior?” He sighed. “Yes, we were alerted that he has gone on to greener pastures.” She knew what that meant. It was a saying they used when someone died. It came about around the Apocalypse. “I see. So, what is the official cause of death?” “Extreme dehydration. There was nothing they could do. Now, do you mind telling me what happened?”

If he was even a little bit sober, he wouldn't forget how much he hated her, let alone speak to her like that. Olivia buried her head in his embrace. Sniffling and trembling, she asked, "Ethan, what would you do if I were dead?" "What are you talking about?" "Everyone dies. Everyone born into this world ages and eventually falls sick before dying. No one can escape that." "Well, then I will die with you. We will enter eternal slumber together and be laid to rest at the same place." Smiling helplessly, Olivia tightly held onto his shirt. "Nonsense. I'm sure you'll celebrate with fireworks and marry someone else the moment I pass on."

Layla's fans sang her praises, saying that she was kind, beautiful, and the best sister in the world. It was raining on the day they cremated my remains. Layla carried the urn containing my ashes and pretended to shed a few tears. I moved toward her. Then, I tried to punch and kick Layla to try and get her hands off me. It was so revolting. Everything about this world sickened me. I dropped to the ground after having exhausted myself. Then, I watched as they put me inside a small box. The words, "Our dearest daughter, Hazel Larson", could be seen on the rectangular tombstone. How ironic.