Deathstroke First Appearance Novels & Stories

“We don’t have seven days. We have five. Maybe four.” Four days until blood kills. Four days until I have to choose who dies first for real. I press my bleeding arm to Theo’s chest. His blood mixes with mine. The bond sparks. I don’t get a death-memory. I get a future. Theo, dead in my arms. Day 16. Real this time. No reboot. Arrow through his heart. Draevor’s crest on the shaft. I jerk back. Theo’s hand finds mine again. “Saw that, didn’t you?” he murmurs. “Now you know. First real death is mine.”

The thirty red dots that had been branded into his small chest just seconds ago were gone, leaving only the bruised indigo glow of the ruins and the suffocating scent of ash-choking bitterness. “Recall,” a voice whispered from the depths of the fog—Elder Thorne. It wasn’t the retreat of the defeated. It was the clinical order of a scientist finished with a successful diagnostic. One heartbeat, the air was screaming with the high-frequency hum of necrotic rifles; the next, the Stalkers were ghosts, melting back into the swirling frost-mist without a sound. They didn’t fall. They didn’t die. They simply ceased to be an immediate threat, leaving behind a vacuum that tasted of rock-dust and copp

I don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.

The silence on the golden hull of the Galactic Mint was deafening. The cosmic dust from the annihilated Debt-Eater still drifted like glittering snow, but Jack Sterling’s attention was entirely consumed by the man stepping out of the primary vault. Arthur Sterling. The grandfather who had supposedly died in a tragic plane crash twenty years ago. The patriarch who had built the Sterling empire from nothing.

He roared, "Clarisse, Clarisse, I'm sorry! I love you... I heard that people become ghosts after death. You should come back to see or claim my life! Don't hide. I know you're here. Show up and let me take a look... I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." At the end of his sentence, he kept slapping his face, his eyes red like a trapped beast. He finally said he loved me, but it was after I died. However, it was too late, Connor. He got exhausted from crying and lay on the bed with my ashes. The next day, he went to the police station and resigned as a forensic doctor. Then, I watched him live like a zombie. He stayed at home every day. Besides doing chores, he held my urn. I floated aside with a frown and

Create myths. I provide truth. Exact. Detailed. Undeniable. 7:18 AM - Wolf fighter (W-22, name: Sarah Klein). Throat torn by Cormac's enforcer. Bled out in forty seconds. 7:19 AM - Vampire hunter (V-34). Staked by Valentina Corvino. Turned to ash. 7:21 AM - Dragon mercenary (D-03). Holy water attack by Tom Cracksman. Burned from inside. Died screaming.

Then she walked up to me, viciously grinding her foot into my wound, using my blood as ink to press down her handprint. After finishing all this, she revealed a cruel smile. "Let him go," she ordered the security guards before saying to me, "John, you know? Your look of despair was just like your mother's before she died. On the day I went to court to declare you dead, I deliberately delivered the good news to your mother. Who would have thought that she'd be so frail? She passed away due to a heart attack." Nora did not have an ounce of pity on her face, only provocation.

He jammed the syringe into my arm. "Who are you?" "I'm the guy who killed the first Alexander," he said. The monitors flatline. The observation deck erupts in chaos. Dr. J leans over Kai and says: "Welcome back from the dead. We have a war to win."

she muttered, as if unable to accept it. She turned to look at my corpse again, yet not a single tear fell. She tried desperately to find proof that it wasn't me. But the moment she saw my pale, bluish face, she couldn't help but retch. "Ms. Saddler, it seems you've confirmed this is Ms. Flora Saddler," the officer said from the side, unable to hold back. He took out a document and placed it in front of her. "If so, please sign. The funeral home is waiting to carry out the cremation."

" Dalton is leaving, Nish seems somewhat uncomfortable. The boys walk past him and rejoin the party. If I was alive those guys wouldn't be here. They do not belong to the group. But what group? To the group of hypocrites? I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at Dalton, who had gestured with his glass to Nisha. But what he did next gave me a lot to understand: he forms a pistol with his fingers and aims at Nish, but then he points himself in the forehead and shoots himself. A flashback appears in my mind: a dark room, a silhouette in front of me, a gun pointed at me, and a shot. I came out of my thoughts totally scared by what had happened. I had had a memory. A memory of my death.