Die Another Day Novel Novels & Stories

Although this one was crisp white, not stained yellow from tobacco smoke. “I liked the idea of love conquering a dark demon familiar, even if it led to his death. I guess I’m just a romantic at heart. The thought of defeating black magic, even with the barrier of death, is something you only read about.” Sarah smiled, shaking her head. The sunlight caught her eyes and made them sparkle. “It’s probably mostly myth or due to old beliefs, but it’s a good one. And the inn was on the same land where your house is.” She peered at me. “But I’m guessing that dark romance isn’t what you’re after. Why do you actually want to know? You obviously have some solid questions.”

The suspicion in his eyes turned into something else, a bright spark of pure amusement that made my inner wolf stir. "An executioner," he repeated, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "You really are different from what I expected, Daisy Vanecrest. Most girls from your circle would be crying for their fathers right now after a night like last night. But you want blood." "I want what belongs to me," I said, keeping my chin high as I adjusted his oversized shirt around my shoulders. "And I want to see the people who wronged me lose everything. Is that a problem for you?"

My eyes drifted shut-and I saw darkness. They say that after death, one may experience reincarnation. If there was truly another life, I hoped I would never cross paths with Daniel again. But fate had different plans. When I regained consciousness, I found myself inside the hall. My body was light-too light. Something was wrong. And Lucy and Daniel were standing on the altar, saying their vows. Vows that Daniel and I were supposed to say together. I tried to reach out to them, my hand trembling, but it passed straight through their bodies.

CHAPTER 1 313 days before my life was caught short. I didn’t feel dead yet. I still had dreams, bad skin, a phone that wouldn’t stop buzzing, and a mother who yelled from downstairs like her voice could split plaster. In other words, I was still a teenage girl, barely holding it together, trying to pretend I understood what it meant to be alive.

Her gray-blue face seemed a little less stiff, but the confusion and wounded look in her eyes still weighed heavily. [System prompt: Hunger is spreading. Proceed to Dorm 4404 to obtain food.] [Warning: 4404’s resident is extremely dangerous! Severely starved!] The live chat was going wild with messages. [4404? Oh no, that’s the Hungry Dead! Granny just escaped the freezer, and now, she’s walking straight into famine!] [That ghost is so hungry it even gnaws on itself! With Granny’s old bones, she’s done for!] I rubbed my empty stomach and steadied my aching back as I climbed off the bed.

My eyes snapped open. The road was empty. My car was gone. The truck kept moving, steadily.. My breath came rough and shallow. My hands trembled against the wheel. “What the hell is happening…?” Then suddenly, “HELLO.” A voice. Neither coming from outside nor inside. A cold, mechanical voice seared into my head with the words, visuals displaying: 《SYSTEM INITIALIZED》 You are dead, Kieran. I froze. My blood went ice cold. 《SECOND CHANCE PROTOCOL ACTIVATED》

I really was dying. A faint, bitter smile crossed my lips. What a pity. You’ll never have the chance to make it up to me now. Within twenty-four hours, the smell of cold iron and dried blood would seep out of that basement no one entered. Olivia always said she wished I were dead— so no one would compete with her for your love. Now, her wish had come true.

Mason came apart after that. He drank around the clock. He drank himself into a stomach bleed. The captain who had once led missions could not stand up most days. The squad cut him after he failed too many disciplinary checks in a row. He had no job. He had no money. He drifted around the streets all hours of the day. Sometimes he caught wind of me, on someone's phone, in a passing conversation. I had quit the office. I had become a novelist. I had taken what had happened to me and put it on the page. The book had done very well.

“Ma’am, we can show you a photo first, so you can confirm whether it’s your daughter. It’s just… when we found her, she had been dead for three days, and the body had started to decompose. You should prepare yourself.” With that, he pulled out a photo from the scene and handed it to her. In the picture, a small, blood-soaked body—mine—was curled up on the bed in an unnatural position. My colorless lips and my sickly, bluish-purple skin told her one thing: I was dead. Mom’s eyes widened. At last, she could no longer lie to herself and burst into tears. “How could this happen? How could this be? She was fine just a few days ago. How could she be dead? Daisy, you cursed child, you’re just like

I have so many unanswered questions about this mysterious assassin. I spent the next week preparing for the formal event while also gathering what I could about assassins that were known. None of the information told me anything. I got a few well-known female assassin names. The number one was Phantom Reaper, second was Blade of Bracken (named after this city, Bracken’s Rock), and third was simply Death. Not very original, that one. By evening, it’s time for me to attend this despicable gala to network and attempt to secure funding for my next research project. I dress sharply in a black tuxedo, my white dress shirt is crisp, and I wear a neatly knotted black tie. My hair is usually always a