Eddsworld Fun Dead Novels & Stories

After I get pregnant with my second child, all the pets in my household start viewing me as their biggest enemy. The tabby cat who once loved clinging to me now poops in my nutritious meals every day. The parrot who only knows how to repeat "hello" begins cursing at me to suffer from a miscarriage. "Die, Leanne Foster!" When I feed the goldfish, they protest against my efforts by quitting food entirely. The next day, they are all dead. Even the terrier I've kept with me for ten years lunges at me like a mad bitch the moment she sees the baby clothes in my hands. After I almost suffer from a miscarriage, I plan on giving the pets away. But my daughter, Harper Steele, hugs the terrier and the cat as she pleads to me sadly, "Mommy, please don't give them away!" My husband, Adam Steele, is worried about my unborn baby, but he also doesn't want to hurt Harper's feelings. In the end, he comes up with a compromising solution. "Honey, there's still one month left till your due date. Just endure the pets for a month, okay? I'll lock them up in their crates and make sure that you're safe." Eventually, I agree to that solution after giving it some thought. But unexpectedly, on the day my water breaks, as soon as I dial Adam's number, the pets rush out of their crates simultaneously and begin tearing at my stomach with their claws and fangs. In the end, I close my eyes weakly from the sheer pain. I can never understand why my pets hate the unborn baby in my womb that much. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I find out I'm pregnant with my second child.

Five years after my death, my ex-husband, Adrian Shaw, came home with his childhood sweetheart, Hannah Reed, on his arm. They were preparing for a new mating ceremony. His only wish before the ceremony was to find me and make me pay for severing our mate bond and betraying him all those years ago. To force me to show myself, he destroyed my family's company, drove my father out of his mind, and burned down the home we had once shared. What he did not know was that I was already dead. Five years earlier, desperate to pay for the treatment he needed after a car accident badly injured his inner wolf, I signed up as a test subject at an underground clinic. It was an illegal clinic that used live subjects to test experimental silver-derived compounds and wolfsbane antidotes. I died in its basement. Later, my grandmother, who had dementia, ran into Adrian in the neighborhood. My grandmother's face lit up with joy. "Adrian, you're back? Grace has missed you so much. Come with me. I'll take you to see Grace."

I was the princess of the Blood Moon pack, the little sister my Alpha brothers cherished. But that all changed when they brought home Lily, the human girl they adopted. They threw me in the dungeons for three days to “reflect.” My crime? Taking Lily into the forest and “accidentally” letting a rogue wolf attack her. I tried to explain, to tell them I was innocent. But my three brothers just looked at me with disgust and disappointment. “Aren't you just jealous that Lily’s getting our attention? Freya, when did you become so vicious?” Then, without a second thought, they severed our sibling mind link, cutting off my pleas for mercy. What they didn’t know was that the weakening wolfsbane in my cell had been swapped for lethal wolf's venom. Three days later, my oldest brother, Ethan, asked the butler, “Has Freya learned her lesson?” By then, I was already dead. My body was already starting to rot.

After my daughter, Mia Powell, was declared brain-dead, my husband, Liam Powell, urged me to sign the organ donation consent form. I was drowning in grief and my mind was on the verge of collapse. That was when I accidentally discovered that her attending doctor, Blair Lincoln, was Liam’s old flame. They had lied about Mia’s brain death, just to trick me into signing the form and steal her heart to save Blair’s daughter, Sophia. I watched as Liam picked Sophia up from the hospital. The three of them smiled together, like a perfect, happy family. When I confronted them, they pushed me off a building, and I died from the fall. Given a second chance, I had returned to the day I was supposed to sign the organ donation form. As I stared at Mia lying in that hospital bed, I silently vowed. This time, that scumbag and that wretch would pay with their lives for what they did to Mia.

My husband, Michael Collins, has offered to buy his childhood sweetheart, Natalie Sweeney's virginity for ten million dollars so that she can afford to treat her cancer. I'm about to stop him from doing so when he begins berating me instead. "Natalie has always been prideful since young. If I were to give her money outright, she'd think that I was giving it to her out of pity. It'll bruise her ego instead. "Can you please be more sympathetic toward her? Must you feel jealous over such a small thing?" Instead of replying to Michael, I just smile and nod in agreement. What Michael doesn't know is that I, an infectious disease specialist, have already picked up on Natalie's weird symptoms. She doesn't have cancer at all—she actually has late-stage AIDS infection.

*Abandoning ship isn’t my style. It wasn’t hers either, but our circumstances ripped us apart. Now it’s not just a literal ocean standing between us. Francine Chirilova has no direction. After coming out of the closet leaves her without a family at age 18, the quick witted 25 year old has been forced to survive on her connections and kind personality. Throw in a rapidly decreasing appetite and a tendency to gravitate toward abusive women for a epic shit show. While recovering from her latest 4 year long mistake, she makes a strong, yet unlikely connection with her virtual best friend. Que in recovering alcoholic Vasilisa Krovopuskova, aged 26 from Siberia, Russia. After surviving a grueling upbringing on her own, trust is a difficult concept to grasp. Already having experienced heartbreak once before, she wasn’t looking for anything serious when Francine crash landed into her life via an online sanctuary for lesbians. With an ocean separating the two, neither Francine nor Vasilisa know which direction to swim in. Will they stay on their side of the world, or drown trying to get to the other? *Disclaimer* - Strong mature content. 18+, please Book one. To follow is book two: “Our Blank Canvas.”

Our Black Friday sales broke ten million. I allocated a budget of $100,000 and told my deputy to organize a celebration dinner for the team. However, after the party ended, everyone in the team looked at me in disdain. I only realized the reason when I heard their complaints in the break room one day. “Ms. Heaton is such a cheapskate. We made ten million in sales, and she treated us with a $3.99 budget takeout for the celebration.” “Seriously, I heard from Ms. Reiser that Ms. Heaton kept the money for herself! She just didn’t want to spend it on us.” My assistant even showed me a post circulating online, accusing me of exploiting employees and lining my own pockets. I summoned my deputy manager, Casey Reiser, to my office. She fell to her knees in tears and confessed everything. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Heaton! My daughter needed emergency heart surgery. In a moment of weakness, I misused the funds!” However, I had clearly seen her daughter sign up for a dance class just yesterday! Since everyone was so quick to judge without knowing the truth, I would retract the team’s monthly budget of one million then!

One life for another. That is the rule of the Aftergame. Lena was a ghostwriter who lived in the shadows—until a devastating betrayal by her sister pushed her into the path of a speeding truck. She expected the void. Instead, she woke up in a sadistic, system-driven purgatory where the dead must compete for a second chance at life. In this gore-soaked nightmare, survival has a name: Riven. A lethal player with eyes like cold flint, Riven breaks the game’s cardinal rule to save Lena, making them both targets of the system’s wrath. But as they reach the final level, the horrific truth unvails. Riven isn’t a player. He is the Executioner—a sentient program designed to mimic love, only to deliver the ultimate soul-crushing betrayal. But Riven has developed a terminal malfunction: he truly loves her. Now, Lena is back in the land of the living, but the world is starting to pixelate. To save her, the machine that was meant to kill her has built her a cage. And in the Aftergame, mercy is the most terrifying fate of all.

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

This is the third book of the Bloodstone series. It can be a stand-alone but will have cross-over characters from the first two books, Alpha Erik and Everlasting Fire. The Bloodstone pack was always known for its thirst for blood and its brutal Alphas. But a lot has changed in the last thirty years. So what happens when the youngest of the Bloodstone family decides to expand the pack business and leave the magic world behind to indulge in a different kind of hunt. Will he keep his place in the human world and sell his soul to the devil? When Balor Bloodstone comes out to play, all bets are off, or so he thought until a new player entered the game—putting him in the crossroads between salvation and damnation.