Eddsworld Fun Dead Novels & Stories

"You heard me very well! If you're going to kill me, do it here. And tell your cowardly boss, who couldn't kill me with his own hands, that I'll be waiting for him in Hell." When he heard this, John began to laugh. "Did I say something funny?" I was angry that he was taking everything as a joke. Even the murder of a human. "Actually yes." he continued to laugh. "I didn't come to kill you. I'm coming to walk you around the mansion. As for Richard, he went to ride his favorite horse, Spirit. When he gets home, he does this first." Poor animal, had a terrible owner. "Oh, that means I should feel lucky." I replied irritably.

“If I were the both of you, I would start thinking of the numerous ways available to die. I heard Don Carlson had someone buried alive without being sedated or placed in a coffin, I also know the best game of his best buddy is none other than Russian Rolex and he scares his enemies with it at all times and the strict never gets old.'' Glory announced turning to face the two ladies who had all their attention now on her. “What the hell are you babbling about? I am not as important, but Don and his brother are not like the older ones who kill for pleasure. I can't count the number of replacements they have had after us and now in a month or two, there will be another. Once you are clear and do

she refuted coldly, “This way, besides my parents, even Liam will be free from your clutches forever. They don’t have to live their life in fear anymore.” Both of them fell silent as the words slowly sank in. The voices from above were getting clearer and clearer. Somebody was barking orders, and they could clearly hear the rumbling noise from moving structures and objects. “Too bad. It seems like we can’t die here together,” Edward lamented, sounding a little exhausted. He let out a silent laugh and then continued, "To have you accompany me while we travel across the nether world…When I think about it, I realize that death isn’t that difficult anymore.”

After Jacob's reminder, I saw the message Edgar had sent. 303: "Everyone in this building is gonna die tonight!" 603: "What the hell is happening downstairs?" 304: "Wait, wasn't the guy in 303 already… dead?" 401: "Seriously, who's using his phone to pull a prank? This isn't funny." Apartment 303 was Edgar's unit, and the message was coming from his WhatsApp account. The other residents were buzzing about it, but no one seemed to take that line seriously. The building was six stories tall, with four units per floor, and it wasn't fully occupied. I shot Jacob a text. "Who took Edgar's phone after he died?"

When he answers the phone Eddie sounds worried, “Ash, what’s the matter? Is something wrong with Eliza?” Ash sighs, “No, sorry. She’s asleep and I didn’t want to wake her just yet. I just overheard two probable Vamps on the street outside the hotel talking shit. They mentioned something about a bomb at the funeral tomorrow and a guy named Syd Wilson who’s making it.” Eddie swears and shouts for Dom. Does anyone there ever sleep? He shakes his head; unimportant.

"If we can't have the end, we’ll make the middle last forever. I’ll keep you alive, Elowen. And I’ll make you want me so badly that Silas’s hell will feel like a mercy." ​He stood up and reached out a hand to help me. He didn't touch my palm; he offered his forearm, a safe, guarded contact. ​"Welcome to the Dead Zone," he said, the shadows at his feet coiling like loyal hounds. " One is over. Now, we learn how to live without breaking." ​In the distance, the bells of a modern cathedral began to ring, echoing through the ruins. Silas was coming. But for the first time in ten lives, the "Sword" and the "Shield" were standing together. ​Even if they couldn't touch.

In my panic and desperation, I found myself hugging the leg of what appeared to be their boss, clinging to him like a child to a parent. "Don't leave me here! I'm afraid of ghosts!" I cried out, my voice muffled against his leg. The sight of those bodies, the reality of violent death, had shattered what little composure I had left. In my traumatized state, the dead men seemed like they might rise at any moment, seeking revenge on the living. "Fuck," the man cursed, rubbing his temples in obvious irritation. I didn't let go of his leg, my grip tightening with my fear.

"Since he loves faking his death so much, I'll give him a taste of the real thing." The bedroom door creaked open. Ford walked in with a glass of warm milk, a look of perfect concern on his face. "Shelly, what's wrong? Another nightmare about Ford?" He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to touch my cheek. I forced myself not to flinch. "I just—I miss him," I took the milk, my voice catching. "Aiden, sometimes… I feel like he never left." "I know," his voice was so gentle it made my stomach churn. "I miss my brother, too. If it weren't for those damn silver bullets—"

Noticing his expression, Wendy suddenly smiled and said frankly, "You're older than me, so I'll call you Mr. Fleming. Actually, after dying, I found it pretty amazing. There's no heat or cold, no need to shower or change clothes, and no need to eat or sleep." "I've experienced that too," Dominic said quietly. Wendy looked startled and suddenly thought of something. She made a soft sound and said, "Hey, could it be that day…" "Yes," Dominic said with a nod. "That day, I really did die." "So, you ran into actual Grim Reapers down there, and now you are some kind of underworld representative," Wendy said, her eyes lighting up. She was a hardcore fantasy reader, and admiration filled her gaze as

The blood had nearly stopped flowing. The position of his right hand was strange; his fingers curled as if trying to grasp something. I crouched down. In his open left hand, written crookedly in blood, was a single word: "Run". 02:14. One minute left. 02:15 came. Nothing happened. I was still alive. "Substitute death successful. Eric Dawson was killed at 2:14 in Parking Lot C. Remaining loop time: 48 hours. "Go to Parking Lot C. There’s something for you."