Elsa Died Novels & Stories

The air in Blackwell Industries was sharp with winter frost and burning rage. Since the death of Dr. Elara Jensen hit the headlines, both Isla and Lucian had been moving like wolves in a blood-scented forest, separately, strategically and silently. It had only been four days since Isla stared at the obituary and whispered, "She was the last thread. And Claire cut it." But even in death, Elara Jensen left behind a ripple. The kind that would upturn everything for Lucian and Isla.

[Shahira's Pov] Isabella died peacefully in her sleep a few days after. Elena said there was nothing more that could be done—her body simply gave out after decades of exploitation. She'd held on long enough to see Manel stopped, to reunite with Daren, to pass on her research. Then she let go. The memorial service was held at dawn, as was Methlock tradition. Daren stood at the front, eulogizing the mother he'd only just gotten back. His voice was steady, but through the bond I felt his grief like jagged glass.

Her surroundings dissipated as her mind wandered to the grave memories she had kept under Lock and Key For over a decade. “You did this to us Elsida, you knew of our mother’s plans and kept your mouth shut.” Raphael rasped against her hair. “They’re all dead because of you, Gabriel is Dead Elsida!” He hollered. Elsida flinched as she started to tremble. “I'm so sorry Raphael,” she murmured, breathing heavily. All the while, Anne remained deathly silent, her lips sealed shut as she took in the interaction, fear dancing in her eyes.

“You were sent to Old Lisbon. The ruins. You left five days ago.” He looked confused. Then smiled slightly. “I think you're mixing things up. It was Berlin. We cleared the safehouse. It was empty.” Elias leaned forward. “How did I die?” Jonas blinked again, slower this time. “There was an attack. A splinter faction. Bio-suppressant bombs. You died in the blast. Charlotte authorized the pyre. I carried you myself.” He looked at her. “You cried.” Charlotte didn’t react. “Jonas, what date was that?”

Elisa entered through the revolving door as if passing through a veil. At the reception desk, she rested her trembling hands on the counter. “I got a call... about my parents.” The receptionist just stared at her. That look. That damn look of pity. Soon after, a doctor appeared. Young. Eyes downcast. Neutral voice. “Ma'am... we're so sorry. They... didn't make it.” Elisa blinked. She didn't break down. She didn't cry. She just asked: “What did they die of?” “An accident. The truck overturned. There were no witnesses. But... we would like to request permission for an autopsy.”

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time.

Thing that caused Death Compiler to rage. "What escaped? How did she escape? And why did she do that? I thought she wanted to die so she committed suicide and broke my list! Now she merged with the others? Humans are so demented! " In her anger the whole room really shook as if things will not last long from the very strong presence of the Death Compiler.

It was calling to her and released their voices. Every elf in Skeifaiah has a tree of his/her own there. In time, they will be buried under the same tree. Margarette was done the same rights. The Queen Aera and the members of aristocrats even headed her interment. Albert and Estelel went to the Creator alongside Margarette. After that, Inwë wasted no time in Lenriad. She packed Margarette’s magic equipment, herbs and books. There was a knock on her door, “Who’s there?”

She was reliving the event all over again, and the panic I had seen in her face earlier appeared. "You don't have to tell me, Ela." "I want to." She said, wiping the tear that rolled down away. "Elena closed earlier than usual and came home to make dinner for the family. She walked in and found me with their hands around my neck, and her heart couldn't take it. She had a heart attack and died on the spot. It should have been me who died that day."

( Back together) Elsa packed all the pictures and put them in a box then padlocked them before burying it deep in her closet. "Do.. you wanna talk about it?" Carson slowly asked when Elsa remained silent. She sighed and sat on the floor and Carson came to sit with her. "Her name was Layla, she was really pretty, kind, smart, and she made me happy," she said with a short smile. "You've been taking in the past tense, is she dead?" Carson narrowed his brows when he asked and Elsa slowly nodded.