Death Writing Novels & Stories

Her voice was quiet through the rain and eyebrows furrowed so deeply that they created a dent between the two. "Reniella De Vega and Deshawn Cervantes. Don't worry, I'm just checking in," Death replied. From the time written on his watch, it was New Year's Eve that Deshawn Cervantes was supposed to die. Deshawn, though soaked from the rain, looked very much alive. "We're fine," Reniella cut in sharply. Death nodded his head slowly and the gold sheen of life that exuviated from Deshawn was clear even through the darkness. It was a bright aura that stuck to his body and stretched out before melting against Reniella's ambiance.

"Just don't talk about dying, okay?" Mrs. Walter looked into Althea's eyes with an understanding that only comes with age. "We can't hide from the truth, dear," she said softly. "Althea, I know this is hard for you," Mrs. Walter continued, her gaze unwavering. "But death is part of life. It's not something we can escape."

The chatting nurses were all startled. The one whose hand Damon had grabbed was just about to get angry, but the moment she met Damon’s icy gaze, her courage crumbled. “We don’t know the full details either. We only heard that a young girl died in the operating room of the Blythes’ private hospital. If you’re interested, you can go take a look. The police are also investigating her identity.” After speaking, she seemed to recognize who Damon was and gave him a smile.

Text from Amon: How are‌ you feeling? Like death​, I t​ype​ bac​k. B‌ut the good kind.‌ Is there⁠ a g​ood kind o​f dea⁠th​? I stare at his ques‍t‍i‍on. For a famil⁠y like ou‌rs,‌ death isn’t abstract a​nymore. It’s Ayana’s empty room. It’s the graves we visit every Sunday. Wro‍ng choice of word⁠s, I correc​t. I f⁠ee​l terrible but hap​py abo‌ut‍ it.

Our lives are like a contract with our creator, of which the day of our death wasn’t specified, the only specification there was that we would live and die someday, the day would not be made known till it comes to pass. The luckiest some of us could get would be knowing that their death were really very close, but the day would be uncertain, sometimes, the moment explains the type of death to be experienced. Some undergoes certain terrible situations before they would finally give up the ghost, some likewise die accidentally making theirs shorter and less painful. Death should be one of the most feared occurrence in someone’s life, to fear death is the first step to careful living. In as mu

And they're letting me. Time of death is called. 3:47 PM. A Wednesday in November. I died on a Wednesday. The nurses silence the alarms. Begin disconnecting machines. One of them is crying quietly—the young one, the one who hasn't learned to separate herself from the death yet. I want to thank her for crying. Want to tell her that at least one person in this room sees me as human. But I can't. Because I'm dead. --- Almost immediately, my family starts the paperwork.

Someone's POV ‘Death, an irreversible cessation of all vital functions a human body has. A permanent stoppage of the heart's beat. Sighing of last breath. Not being able to wake up the next morning. Unable to see how the sun rose. A reality humans fear to encounter; poor souls.’ Elle yawned as she thought to herself, tapping the table, boredly staring nowhere. From time to time, her eyes would caught a glimpse of the doctor who was scrolling on her background profile.

The memory answers before she can stop it. Her back against the concrete pillar. The dead closing in. One hand pressed to her bleeding arm. The bag gone. Dex gone. No rescue. No miracle. Just her, laughing once because of course this was how it ended, because if she had known betrayal came with this much paperwork she would have asked for a receipt. She had still tried to get up. Even then. Especially then. “That’s a flattering way to say I died stubborn.” It was a statistically significant death. A laugh escapes her before she can catch it. Small. Ugly. Almost nothing.

He again removed my arm away from him and questioning eyes darted across my face, "You seem to bring the death subject a lot lately." His words somehow let the smile slip off my face. I shrugged nonchalantly as I gazed outside the window, "Well, in the end, we all are going die, aren't we?" Death. That word alone used to scare me. Well, not anymore. Because death, is not the greatest loss in our life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. ********** Cara's POV My attention drifted from the conversation Katherine and Ashton's sister - Zoe - were having and my gaze fell on Chase and Lilly sitting together at the couch silently playing together. I smiled at how cute they looke

I stare at the lovely city of Manchester as I weigh my options. It’s either bankruptcy and death or marriage and coronation. I guess the latter isn’t much of a bad idea, only it is. Whatever the case, my father’s murders must pay. I have a secret after all, I can hardly die.