Es Death Novels & Stories

Death says I pout rolling my eyes, "I don't want to go to hell," "Of course you do," he says wrapping his arms around my shoulders before waving to Mika and snapping us back to the Ocean. "Aw look at them," Hera gushes I elbow Death while he's off guard and he immediately lets go of me leaning against the wall, "That was unnecessary," "You do not need to hug me," I reply, although I slightly miss the warmth he provided me "Yeah, okay, let's pretend like you didn't like it," He replies with the rise of an eyebrow

He was murdered on December 1st, 2013. All this time, starting one year ago, Elena had been dreaming of a dead man. Her shoulders sunk, as did her spirit, she was devastated and a certain aura of emptiness immediately enveloped her heart. Her soulmate was dead, he had died the same day she had mysteriously gotten healed and realized her abilities. With her head deeply buried in her pillow, Elena cried the tears of death.

Age at death: 6 years old Date of death: 10th December, XXXX (1:30 AM) My body collapsed onto the floor. “NO!!!”

It was from a trending post that Priscilla had sent her. “Cedric Rivers, the former CEO of Rivers Corporation, has passed away from lung cancer.” The news topped the trending list for two days. Even Eden did a double-take upon reading it. She had moved on to a new life. It had been so long since she heard Cedric’s name that it took a moment for her to jog her memory upon hearing it. She did not expect it to be news of his death. After processing it for a moment, she decided to call Mateo.

So, he sat down quietly across from Dominic and refilled his tea. "Uncle Dom, we've troubled you a lot." "All right, enough nonsense. Either you don't bother me or stop saying such things." Dominic sipped his tea and asked, "You said on the phone that Rhea is dead?" Elijah, who was pouring himself a cup of tea, paused and nodded. “Yeah. It is said to be an explosion accident. It's still under investigation.”

She snapped her head in Cynthia's direction again only to find her eyes already on her. “Three years ago, he died that same exact night when Asael Elayzer died for this whole world,” like a mannequin, Ezrene peered at Cynthia telling her that that life had already ended for which she had parted herself from her Asael three years ago.

Edward looked at me as if he understood my struggle. "Well, you don't have to be sad over that guy's death. Well, the sad part is no one came to claim his body or they aren't able to find any of his family. It was just his bad day." Edward said everything he can think of. Well at least for the family part I felt for him. I would have been sad even after death if my family wouldn't be able to see my last breath.

I could not even remember how. At the very least, I should thank him for serving as our first lab rat and providing such valuable data. … That night, the hospital informed me that he had killed himself shortly after I left by drinking a bottle of sanitizer. They pronounced him dead soon after. I gave a noncommittal "mm-hmm" and told the hospital to handle the body. His funeral was simple: no ceremony, no pomp, no ritual, not even a single guest. I watched as they lowered him into the grave. At last, it was over.

“It’s the date this codicil was approved by your father.” I stared as my chest tightened. “Why?” he asked. “Is it significant?” My head bobbed, though I couldn’t form the words. “I-it’s the day he died.” The young man beside me sucked in a breath. “Th-that…” He stammered, “can’t be right. Maybe it’s a typo?” “It could be right. He died during the evening, a heart attack after he fell asleep.” They say that a quick and painless death is like being kissed by an angel. I always wondered how he warranted a kiss. Maybe this codicil was it?

I read the date and the authorization line and the signature that ties Don Tobia Armenise to the death of his own nephew, and I close the ledger and hold it against my chest and I breathe. The courtyard behind me is reorganizing around a brother bleeding on the gravel and a sedan still idling at the gate. I hear voices, sharp and urgent, and I hear the Fiat's door open and I hear Enzo's voice, thin and strained, saying something I cannot make out. He is alive. The shot was clean and he is alive and I am in the chapel with the ledger in my hands and the proof of everything Don Tobia has done pressed against my ribs.