Dora Dying Novels & Stories

No member of the Clan knows what transpires there, but the father never comes back and the son always comes back filled with wisdom and stronger than his father, ready to rule his clan with a common goal, liberate the world from the oppression of power. The present Dorak was brown in complexion, tall and dashing, ripped in size, having multiple scars all over his broad chest, his long straight auburn hair gave him a wicked beauty as did his turquoise eyes gave a daring appearance. On getting to Dorak, the Drokan warrior goes on his knees then offers the paper with both hands. After a short while of reading the Dorak stood on his feet, influencing a great silence in the marquee. “Zapov Zodaik

My little sister Celine was six years old when hunters caught her. They kept her in a silver cage for three days. By the time our parents found her, the damage was done. She came home with seizures and PTSD. The healer said any loud noise, strong smell, or sudden stress could trigger an episode and put her life at risk. So my entire life was rearranged around her silence. I learned to walk quietly, speak quietly, cry quietly, so that nothing about me would ever reach her. Whenever I broke down from the exhaustion of it, my parents would hold my face in their hands and say the same thing. "You're the strong one, Iris. This family needs you to be strong. Can you keep this to yourself, just unt

I stand near the edge of the upper balcony, holding a fresh crystal glass of blood-red wine, watching the Mercer family fracture from within. Talon steps up beside me, his hands folded neatly behind his back. "Don't let them ruin your appetite, Harper." I take a slow sip of the rich liquid, my eyes narrowing. "They don't have the power to ruin anything for me, Talon." The Harper who would have cried over Grayson Mercer died the night he abandoned her in the Hollowfang Woods. Yet, as I stare down at the sparkling wine, a sharp, sudden ache throbbed deep within my chest cavity—a residual phantom pain left behind by the original soul of this body. The poor, fragile human-born Harper who loved G

Dora was a few meters away from Alessa and felt a thread run through her chest, spit a large black stain on the ground and turned to Alessa. "Dora?" she mutters, noticing the blood on her chest. She runs towards her, holding her, but gradually Dora loses her strength and falls to her knees on the floor. Alessa settles into her lap and panic takes over her chest. Epistolo gets out of the car, staring at her. "Do you need help?" he asks humorously as silent tears fall from her face. Doris reaches out and touches her friend's cheek.

she said her voice emotionless, Ryan stood up, “What has happened to you Dora, what have you done?" Ryan was disappointed and in disbelief, it didn't help that Dora didn't show any sign of remorse, instead, she chuckled. “I have killed many people more than I can count in the last month. I am not the woman you got married to, I am broken Ryan so trust me when I say I will kill you if you call for help" Ryan's eyes drifted to Sara, he watched as she took her last breath and died right in front of his eyes. when Dora had seen that her mother had stopped breathing, she held Ryan by the hand and lead him to his car,

“Oh! I remember. The nice, caring one. Dora always said good things about you.” She looked behind me, scanning the room. “Where is Dora?” My smile fell. The nurse glanced between us and quietly excused herself, giving us privacy. I took a shaky breath. “She’s not here. I...” I paused, my voice catching. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carson. Dora is... Dora passed away.” She blinked. “No... no, that’s not true.” “She...” My voice broke. “She was murdered in China. Someone... shot her in her apartment, and—”

I had a tumor in my stomach, and I would not live much longer. Donating my bone marrow would inevitably become the greatest catalyst to push my death forward. I would not leave the operating table alive. “It’s fine.” The pain on my body could not compare to the pain in my heart. Since no one looked forward to my living, it would be better if I just died. The nurse who had held my phone for me came back in a hurry. Her eyes sparkled, as if she was giving me my final hope. Jacob York, my boyfriend’s name, shone on the screen, and it stung my eyes.

Me praying silently and Kira-crying in the embrace of Sir Flinn. I closed my eyes again as I heard the signal. Then we heard the doctor say, “Time of death, 8:45 pm.”

I close my eyes shut and open them. Dora's eyes filled with tears, she slowly kneels in the middle of the road, there was still a little black stain on the ground from the accident, she uses her shaky hands to touch it "I don't want to believe you're the one who's gone". I walk close to her and place my hands on her shoulder "soon everything will be revealed" my eyes suddenly caught something, it was an old man with a homeless look, sited in a small wooden caravan, selling some very cheap fake jewellery.

Woods said a quick, silent prayer, hoping that the big southern girl didn’t freeze her ass off on her way up to the Pearly Gates. Thirty simple seconds tick-tocked on by, and despite the electric crackle of expectancy in the air, Mama Metcalf remained well and truly dead. Even her blood had stopped flowing, ruby diamonds on a cigarette-butt strewn patch of land. The old woman across from her, Wanda Mabry, would also never move again. Her index finger was curved inwards as though still depressing an invisible trigger that shot invisible bullets of hatred at a sky that would never die. Sirens sung in the distance. When the hospice alarm was activated an automatic call out was prompted to the f