Dying Flower Novels & Stories

The vampire chuckled as she saw them. “Really? Lavender sunflowers?” She asked. I nodded. “Also known as the Dead Man’s flower. Powerful enough to hide any scent known to man.” She scoffed and shook her head. “Impressive, but still. You’re wasting your time,” she said. She tried to wriggle free from the chains once more and then burnt her, the sizzling sound splitting the silence. She groaned in anger. “Son of a….” “Ah ah ahhhh,” I said, waving my finger.

She sighed and walked into the warmth of her living room. My feet took me outside as soon as the content of my cup was finished and before I knew it, I was walking towards the lone daisy. I kneel down with my knees digging into the soft grass. My figure tips softly brushed the petals of the flower. Every petal lies perfectly under the sun, white, yet kissed pink at the tips. As my eyes scanned the surrounding of the flower, a smile bloomed on my lips. Small yet dozens of healthy daisy sprouts surround the flower. In a matter of a few days, this green lawn will be a bed of white daisies. I love how they come in hundreds rather than one or two, like an intense floral flash mob. I wrapped my fi

" Every single word out of his mouth was a knife, and with each sentence, my heart turned to ice. The fragile hope that had just flared up inside me was brutally snuffed out. Wyatt's lips curved, and he looked almost pleased with himself. He took the food and water that had been placed in the coffin, then said casually, "You're going to die anyway, so there's no point wasting these on you. I'll leave the oxygen tank, though. I want you to last a few more days. It's just a shame you won't be able to make it to our wedding."

I said to him and I turned to Sushi, who was now at the entrance of the tunnel and didn't seem to want to step toward me. "Don't worry, the flower is not poisonous. But it is poisonous to other creatures. It has a different effect on immortals." He answered me. "Do you want to know?" "Yes." I quickly answered him. Everyone wants to know what the effect of this plant is. "The plants that surround us are called Lycoris Radiata. The flower of death. It foresees the death of a being. It does not live in another place, it only grows here. So this flower, time to grow somewhere else—that means someone's going to die." He answered me that I inhaled. I felt like I lost my breath because of the infor

Flowers that seemed to glow from within. And everywhere, deadies. Walking. Sitting. Smiling. They looked at us with curious, empty eyes as we passed. "Don't talk to them," Kara warned. "They'll try to convince you to stay. They think they're doing you a favor." We walked in silence. The path wound through different sections of the garden. A rose garden where the flowers were the size of dinner plates. A meditation grove with trees that seemed to whisper encouragement. A reflection pool where the water showed not your face, but your happiest memory.

The letter didn't have a header and it didn't say from who it was either. It's the wind, can't you hear it? The sound is melodic, almost a whisper. Little by little, the voice turns brittle. Drop after drop, the tears don't cease to stop. The tune itself surrounds her, and like a spell her thoughts drown in the well. A soft murmur caresses her petals that are so thin, the light in her eyes slowly turning dim. The sigh of defeat makes the whistling howls of the wind freeze. Everything stops just as the rose falls.

Ang notebook na naglalaman ng lahat ng list niya at mga kwentong nangyari sa kan'ya. Binuksan kong muli ang notebook na binigay n'ya at muling binasa ang mga laman nito. "DIARY OF THE DYING" Living My Final Days with a Grateful Heart Muli akong napaluha ng mabasa ang unang pahina nito. Bakit sa dinami-dami ng tao sa mundo, s'ya pa ang dinapuan ng sakit na 'yon at kung bakit s'ya agad ang kinuha. Ang daming masasamang nilalang na hindi na nararapat pang mabuhay pero bakit kung sino pa ang maraming pangarap at dapat pagkalooban nito ay sila pa ang pinagkaitan.

When it comes down to thinking about Love, people get confused. I am taking the dance shoes you bought once from me. I am taking a few more things with me which will remain with me forever. In return I have nothing to give you except some painful memories from my end. But I grew a small bunch of Daffodils down there at the side of the lawn these days. Take care of them as they were my favourite. You know Daffodil means rebirth or hope. They struggle through the winter to come in Spring in order to decorate our nature with its colour of happiness.

I wish I died days ago. I really need something to keep me warm, or else, I will die. Dying in an instant is preferable than dying in an agonizing cold winter without something to eat. It is beautiful, very beautiful. These flowers are very pretty. What flowers are these? I am sure these are not roses. I live near a flower shop in the past, so I know many kinds of flowers. This is, I am sure are not like any flowers I had seen in the past. These flowers looks unique. I want to cry of happiness.

She smelled of wolf. Full wolf, not the suppressed register I was projecting behind the Switch, not the dampened human-baseline signal I was broadcasting as Lyanna Black. The real thing, clean and particular, the scent of a bloodline with depth in it, the specific compound of someone high-born and aware of it and comfortable with the awareness. My Silver Dawn receptors catalogued it automatically. High rank. Not the highest in this compound, but high enough to move through it with the proprietary ease she was currently demonstrating. I kept my face exactly where it was and did not let the cataloguing show.