Deathless Death Novels & Stories

She had escaped from the crypt. "He's not dead! He's not dead!" Daphne threw herself onto the coffin, pounding on the lid like a woman possessed, her voice so shredded it was barely human. "Stellan isn't dead! He's not dead! He's not dead! You can't bury him! He's really not dead!" The chapel erupted. Everyone stared at Daphne in shock, then at the coffin, then at each other.

“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.”

Their eyes were filled with disbelief, and the last thing they saw was Delirus' sinister smile before they succumbed to their wounds. After getting rid of these people, Delirus waved, and his group continued to move deeper. "Sir, now that we have obtained so many beast cores, there's no need to continue killing, right?" one of the followers asked. Delirus glanced at him and said, "Why? Can't bear to witness more deaths? To achieve success on the path of becoming an immortal, one must endure such setbacks.” The follower's expression turned stern as he replied, "Yes, sir."

He simply nodded, and that was enough. “Dr. Vance,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “It’s good to meet you in person.” I nodded in return. “Likewise, General Cole.” There was no need for pleasantries. I knew why I was here, and so did he. Without another word, he gestured for me to sit. “I’m sure you’ve seen the reports. You’ve read about the fever. The people who’ve died. The ones who’ve turned. It’s a nightmare. And we’re losing. Every day, we lose more ground to the infected.”

Evan squeezed harder, making Carmen cough. "Die!" "Do you really want me dead? Don't you want to know where Lyra's head is?" Carmen used the last of her strength to say this. Evan froze for a moment before slowly releasing his grip. After a while, Carmen got up and opened the fridge. There were two glass jars inside with my head and kidney both soaking in formaldehyde.

"Celie and Terrance Ward are supposed to be dead. I'll help as well, but all of us need to keep this away from Valeur for long as possible. All of this started from his transmigration; therefore, he should be the one defeated and held accountable. It'll just take all of us working together... or he'll kill us off one by one. I've done my history on Valeur...he's not a demon I wanna encounter." Terrance and Phuture both glanced at each other after being approached by Death, but neither of them sought out a reply. The two of them had so much history with Death, so many memories flustered their brain at once when she arrived. The stunned duo remained quiet and, in their heads, Phuture felt nost

the voice chuckled, “were a pain to get.” “What’s the hell…” I whispered under my breath. The screen blinked again — now showing a faint image of what looked like… a mask? Smiling, expressionless, like a porcelain doll. “You’re probably wondering what this is,” the voice went on, still smug and snaky. “Short answer? You’re all dead. Long answer? Congratulations — you lucky little corpses have been chosen for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” My blood ran cold. “Dead?” I echoed, my voice barely a whisper. I could feel my hands trembling.

Undead had terrible naming sense. It seems that it wasn’t just their lives that had been lost when they died. Just like Muscles was a direct expression of his name, Slender was also an exact definition of his name. His prominent clavicular and rib bones as well as his overtly expressed zygomatic bone and temporalis muscle were enough to show that he was wasted. While he was tall, he was as slim as a broom and would have been mistaken for a terminally ill man if he wasn’t already dead. Standing with Muscles, they drew such a stark contrast between themselves that it was almost comical; however, the Undead with them didn’t think so.

I’m not anyone, I’m Aaliyah, assassin of the Italian mafia known as Shadow of death. There is no stopping me when I start. Every single last target had to die was my motto. If you didn’t plan to die any time soon then don’t approach me. But I had to restrain myself from killing the last one because I knew Dominic probably wanted to question him so I only knocked him out. I was back to normal and I turned my attention back to the people who were standing a few feet away from all of this that had just happened.

REGISTRY DISTRICT 10 CORE BALANCE: 100 UNITS REQUESTED EXCHANGE RATE: ONE IMMUNITY LEASE PER SOUL "They're offering an exemption," I realized, the "True Zero" logic in my mind cutting through the silver text with a terrifying, icy clarity. "If we surrender the memory of our scars—the un-optimized errors that made us default—they’ll give us a permanent lease on the clearing. We can live in the margin forever, but we’ll be silent. We’ll be a closed account that never changes."