Ethan Cutkosky Dead Novels & Stories

Chapter 13 Horrendous, that was the words can describe my feelings. Everywhere I looked there were dead and souls being picked up by another Grim Reaper. "Name: Samantha C. Real Age: 32 years old Cause Of Death: Accidental Death Time of Death: 3:42 pm." Announcement of the Grim Reaper next to me. For some unknown reason, I look invisible in the eyes of people here in this place. No one is criticizing nor asking about my presence here. I did not try to ask the Grim Reaper next to me because I'm sure he has something to do with it or maybe because I'm one of them so things like this aren't impossible. Well, after all, I am contracted living Reaper the only difference between me and them is tha

I could feel myself comfortable enough to share my sadness with him. "Are you feeling better?" Ethan asked a little cautiously. "Yes, Thank you." I put the cap on the bottle and then banded it to him. He placed the bottle on the table and then dragged the chair near to my bed so that he would sit in front of me. "You are a brave girl, Skylar. I know how much it hurts to lose our loved ones. You are a fighter and survivor. Your parents must be so proud watching you bloom into a marvellous young woman." Ethan's words strung into my heart. He said those words like he really meant them, and I honestly felt grateful thanks to his kind words.

His two most trusted men and his son died in the rain. Ethan turned to Howard and said, “Come on.” Howard stood up in a daze and left with Ethan, forgetting all about his pain. He would never forget that day when Ethan crushed Dennis and made the man pay a very heavy price. … Emerging from his recollection, Howard sighed and wondered how Ethan was doing now. “Thump. Thump.” There was a knock on the door. Howard cleared his mind and said, “Come in.” A young man entered the room and said with his head lowered, “There has been some activity in Crestwood again, sir.”

I’ll protect you no matter what it takes, he promised silently before slipping out of bed and into his office. Ethan’s mood was ice-cold as he walked into his office. Jake was already there, waiting with an update. "We’ve traced the caller," Jake said, placing a file on Ethan’s desk. Ethan opened it and frowned. "This can’t be right." The report linked the caller to someone from Ethan’s past, a man named Victor Cole. "He’s supposed to be dead," Ethan muttered, his voice low and dangerous. Jake shifted uncomfortably. "It’s possible he faked his death. But the connection is undeniable."

I clutched the hem of my apron, an unexplainable pain searing through my body. Secretary Lee stepped forward, handing me a file. Was this to make me feel better or to sever my heart even more? I took it anyway, peering into the content. Each line held a different meaning. Name: ETHAN named NIKOLAI COLE Height: 6’5 Day of Birth: MAY, 1991 Day of Death: APRIL, 2004 My lips trembled, a new fear unlocked. Ethan was dead. He was legally dead. I crumpled the sheet, throwing it across the room, not wanting to see more of the truth about him.

Ethan said to himself with pride, "You have an eye for beauty. I took care of these roses myself. "The best fertilizer was used. Some scum's rotten flesh." I looked at him, my face devoid of any emotion, and said slowly, "I don't just want them dead." Ethan's eyes lit up with delight and he proudly showed off, as if to say, "I understand you." "This is just a small part of the thugs. After they were castrated, we buried them here." With that, Ethan led me to the car and drove us to an underground casino.

Nicole murmured. That was exactly what I was thinking. Ethan was dead. I'd held his lifeless body myself. There'd been tons of people at his funeral. They'd all seen him get buried. It wasn't possible to change someone into a vampire after they died. "What did you do, Lucas?" Anthony asked.

"I had a meeting that couldn't wait any longer." "And after the office?" He looked at me. "I was on my way to the police station," he said. "To question the imposter myself." I closed my laptop slowly. "Was on your way?" "Yes. Detective Okafor called me before I got there," Ethan said. His voice was flat and careful. "The imposter is dead." I stared at him. "What?" "They found him in his cell. He cut his wrists with a metal bracket from under his cot." Ethan paused. "By the time anyone found him, it was too late."

“I think someone tipped him off, it was obvious that they were just there about an hour ago. They knew we were on our way and were able to escape.” I let out a long sigh as my head fell backwards against the couch. “Oh, also… Ethan is dead. He was found lying dead. He was gutted out.”

“If a wolf takes a bite out of me, it ends worse for them.” Ethan chuckles. “You’re a diabolical wee shite, you know that?” A smoky wave of amusement washes through me, though I’m not sure where it originates from. It is strange, I suppose, hearing them talk to one another almost as though they are friends. “So they say,” says Blake. “But you didn’t kill him.” “No. It just weakened him enough to knock him out.” “Can I ask you something?” There’s no response, and I presume Blake must have shrugged because Ethan continues. “The scars on your back. How did you get them?”