Ethan Cutkosky Death Novels & Stories

"Hey, what are you guys doing? Did I miss something?" Ethan chuckled, then shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Uncle Chuck and I were talking about the dead guy we found last night. The situation is terrible. It's embarrassing!" Ethan held his own head, then shook his head in disbelief. "I hope I wasn't recorded by someone else. My face must be really ugly." Uncle Chuck tapped Ethan on the shoulder, he made a mocking face as he said, "I should have taken a picture of you. We can stick your pale, zombie-like face on the wall. The buyers will love it."

"You hated him. You had every right to hate him." Silence stretched between them, filled with the distant sound of string quartet and polite conversation. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but no less dangerous. "Yes, I did. But that doesn't mean I wished him dead." "He killed himself." The admission felt like ripping off a bandage, quick and brutal. "Three months after your father's company went under. He couldn't live with what he'd done." Ethan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "And now you're here. At my party. Wearing a dress that costs more than most people make in a month and stealing food like some kind of"

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.

“I still remember the sound.” His eyes darkened. “And you...you couldn’t live with it. You knelt next to her and drove the blade right into yourself. That was the last thing I saw.” He pointed at them both now, wild-eyed almost laughing. “We all died that day. Together. Like some cursed little triangle.” Then he leaned in more, his voice barely above a whisper. “But here’s the kicker. You?” he pointed at Ethan. “You were cursed for taking your own life.”

His face was a blanket of sorrow. His eyes dimmed, his throat moved, and in that moment, we all knew something terrible was coming. “What happened, doctor?” Cleo asked frantically, unable to wait another second. “Ethan suffered a traumatic fall,” the doctor said. “We tried everything we could, but he didn’t make it. He died the instant he fell.” I turned away, marching off to the corner of the room. I bit the inside of my mouth, hurting myself as I faced the wall.

Hands touch my shoulder gently, but I shrug them off, stumbling backward until my spine hits the wall. “He was fine,” I whisper, shaking. My whole body I’m shocked as to what I just witnessed. “He was, he was stable, he was getting better right? You said he would stay for a few more months?” The doctor approaches carefully. “Mr. Jake, I’m very sorry.” Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. That word is useless. Ethan is dead. And for some reason, I feared Chloe or Zoe getting the news of his death. That could ruin them.

The sterile scent of the infirmary bit at my nose. “Collins, let’s get you out of here,” McQueen said, appearing at my bedside like a weary ghost. “I just got word from the General Hospital. Ethan isn't in the ground. They moved him to the ICU. Those vultures in the media were so hungry for a tragedy they declared him dead while he was still warm on the table.” McQueen reached out to steady me as I tried to sit up. The fog in my brain was thick, but it was starting to lift.

I have totally forgotten that she was raised in the streets, just like her brother. “What’s the other unpleasant news?” I asked. Ethan looked at me in shock. Maybe he was expecting me to give him some sort of explanations, but I am definitely not doing that. “Anyway,” he said when I maintained a straight face, “the young lad who snitched on us to Kozlova has just died.” “Oh no, Ethan.”

“He caught you meeting with one of the were-blood merchants. Didn’t he?” Sam’s lip curled. “You’re making shit up.” Ethan wasn’t even looking at him anymore. He was looking at me. Right at me. “I found Kash’s body. I wasn’t fast enough to save him, but I buried him,” Ethan whispered. “I swore to him that if I found out who really did it, I’d kill them myself.” My vision blurred with tears. The floor felt like it was drifting from under me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

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.