Deathly Synonym Novels & Stories

Damien muttered to himself, stroking his chin as he stared at a pic of the plate number. "Employ two of the best Shadow guards of the Gray family to guard her in secret, she doesn't need to know she's being followed " Damien said, his eyes narrowing at the phone. He must find out whoever it is, no matter where they are. Finishing his meeting, Damien headed for Hazel's room. Pushing the door, it creaked open as he walked in, making his way to where she lay on the bed.

He stood over me, head tilted slightly, dark eyes burning with something intense I didn’t want to name. “You hesitated,” he murmured, voice low and lethal. I swallowed hard, the motion making me hyper-aware of my pulse hammering in my throat. He was still too close, watching me like he was waiting for me to make another mistake. “You do that in the real world,” he breathed, leaning down so his breath ghosted across my cheek, “and you die.” His lips twitched into the faintest, cruelest smirk. “Or,” he added, voice a dark promise, “something worse happens.”

The blame rests entirely upon my actions. His arms tightened around me. Against my hair he murmured the words, "No, it’s not." My attempts to halt the progression proved futile. The sensation of it taking place reached my awareness. That spiraling sensation. The oppressive burden suffocates and compresses. The event extended beyond her mere passing. This event marked his demise as well. The memories returned with relentless force, sweeping through my consciousness as an unyielding tidal surge. An additional firearm discharge occurred. Another friend gone. A lifeless body rests at my feet.

She added while searching further. "Aha!! Here it is; take a look!" Everyone was curious about her findings, so I read it out loud. "The age-old knowledge of the seven deathly beings: The Shadow Stalker, a phantom predator, strikes fear in the dark. The Banshee's Wail, mournful and ominous, signals disaster with her cries. Petrifying with a glance, the Gorgon's Gaze turns victims into stone. The Blood Fiend feeds on life, leaving only husks.

An evil eye that brought a spear, in death will seek the blood of wickedness and a drop of tear lies the hell of your death. A verse yet to see, read it aloud, and there it comes to a death angel who will claim your soul. Count one to three don’t dare to see a tempting hunger yet to be. For gluttony is there for you to seek. A mouth of death you will end up being. Deadly sin is upon your way and the only thing for you to live a camera she treasures so dearly. Don’t dare steal anything you want and see, for that hand of yours will surely drag you down in an endless pit. A pit of nothingness where your deepest fear aside and in the end, you will desire to die.

I know it was a hard truth, but it was better to face the truth head-on rather than run from it. "There's one important factoid that's really bothering me." Thomas tapped the wheel, turning down his long driveway. "Was Mike alive or dead when I killed him? Because if he was alive and out of his mind, then I murdered a man. But if he was dead, which he very well could've been, then I killed a... zombie." Goosebumps rippled down my back. Zombie. Thomas was the first of us to have enough courage to say it. I hadn't said anything because I didn't want them to call me crazy, but when Thomas suggested the idea, Derek and I couldn't fight his logic.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance's best friend, Penny Lynd, showed me a video, smiling as she said, "Hey, Lydia. I've already educated Aron for you. He's now a real stud, so enjoy!" I felt my breath leaving my lungs as they made love in the video, while Aron Quaker laughed, clapping her shoulder. "Where did you get that AI video? I only took your clothes off that one time." While he was laughing without a care, I felt like I'd just fallen into an abyss. Seeing me lose my cool, Penny laughed out loud too. "There! I knew it would upset Lydia! She's so dumb that she can't even tell that it's an AI video—and a bet's a bet! Starting today, we will be married for three days." It was only t

His voice was getting frantic. Duke was not moving; his eyes were shut and his skin glistened with the first drops of rain that had come with the rumbling sky. “Duke!” Tim screamed. He had felt the panic in Jason’s voice and young as he was, he understood what that meant. Jack stood by the side, tears glimmering in his eyes. It seemed the boy had already given up on life before it started. “He is dead, is he not?” he asked.

An unknown contact, yet the content is unmistakable – a picture of a battered Daren accompanied by a chilling message: "72 hours are up, Elena."