Fake Death Novels & Stories

It was 9:00 pm, and a soft glow still lit the master bedroom on the second floor of the Lowe residence. "Hello, I'd like to schedule a fake death," Bianca Lane typed calmly as she sat at her vanity, hitting send without hesitation. A response quickly appeared. "Your request has been accepted. Please confirm the date for your fake death." "Ten days from now, on my birthday," Bianca replied immediately. "The cause is a car explosion, and no remains will be found."

At first, Chad told Sonya to leave through the window to tell Caroline of Darren's decision. After that, he turned to Darren. "This is called the Thanatos Emblem. If no one wakes you up in three days, you'll be dead." Darren nodded determinedly. "I've long prepared a cemetery. After the fake death, bury me. And take me out at night." Chad nodded and took out a short needle, poking it into the back of Darren's head. At the same time, Darren took his last breath and became a dead person. After that, Chad looked at Darren deeply and left the room through the window.

At that time I realized that the silence of loneliness was sad and suffocating. On the other hand, I can’t help but blame myself for what happened. However, I know more than anyone else that if I don’t fetch his soul someone else will do it. Death is not something that a person or anyone in the world has control over especially if a person’s death is predestined and written. I learned CSA killed Mr Perelman or Central Sleep Apnea a condition wherein a person pauses in breathing due to a lack of respiratory effort during sleep. That’s the thing Hazel explained to us when we last got together after the funeral.

I don’t know why, but something is rotten in my gut and it’s never wrong. We storm through the building, Roddy’s being the last room at the end of the long ass hallway. The door is locked and Grouch sticks his ear to it, then backs up and kicks it open. The immediate stench of death I know all too well hits my nose and I can’t believe nobody has noticed it. It’s at least fifteen doors from mine. Missile and Grouch storm in, but I can already see the lifeless body of Ryan “Roddy” Grimes on the bed. I step in the room and see a needle sticking right out of his fucking arm. His skin is already discolored, he’s been dead a couple days. And nobody even realized it. Some brotherhood we are.

"What exactly did I do wrong?" Dad's expression darkened. "Don't tell me five years haven't been enough to teach you how hard it is to make a living. We faked our deaths and moved abroad just to make you realize the truth. There will come a day when you won't be able to earn a thing, and every last penny will be gone." Then, his tone softened. "It's just as well that you finally understand. At least now we don't have to stay away from home anymore."

"Daniel, what makes you think you have a say? I was Alexander's wife. Not yours." His face went rigid. "I…" Alexander had once faked his death and taken on Daniel's identity just to care for Lily. Now that I was leaving, he could do nothing but watch. If he wanted to force me back, he would have to reveal his identity in front of Charles, and that would ruin him. Alexander opened and closed his mouth, but no truth came out. His hands fell helplessly to his sides as he stared at me in shock. But when he met my cold, mocking gaze, something snapped.

She turned slowly, as if the words had reached her late. “You thought she was faking,” she said. Adrian’s face went gray. “She said it was cranberry juice.” My father closed his eyes. A medical examiner arrived later with a preliminary report. She did not repeat what the paramedics had already said. She only added the part they had not known. “The trial compound appears to have triggered acute kidney failure, followed by cardiac arrest. Her body was already severely depleted before she took it.” My mother lifted her head. “Depleted?”

We squealed like children, spinning each other just slightly, laughing in disbelief and emotion. “Do you know how I cried when I heard you were dead?” Myla whispered, still clinging to me. I pulled back, brows furrowed. “Why does everyone keep saying that? ‘Dead’?” She blinked at me, her face pale with memory. “Because there was a body, Zoey. A body. Someone made sure it looked like you died. Like you were gone for good.” My eyes widened, and a chill rolled down my back. “A body?”

He paused deliberately, his eyes flickering ever so subtly in my direction. The room fell deathly silent. Everyone waited, holding their breath for the final pronouncement. "Murder." The word hit like a thunderclap, echoing in the shocked silence. Chaos erupted once more, the noise from the reporters deafening, while online, the live stream chat exploded with comments: "Sabrina is dead!?" "No way! How is this possible?!" "Murder? What is he saying? That Arianna and Charles killed her?" "OMG, this is wild!"

The accident from four years ago had left my face completely shattered and bruised, and I was forced to undergo surgery that replaced my face entirely. I’d struck a deal with the doctor after my surgery and had made him announce me as ‘dead.’ After all, I was going to die in a few years, and I wanted to take my revenge before I took my last breath on earth. The news of my ‘fake’ demise had spread like a wildfire, and I saw it in the headlines, in the news, and heard it on the lips of people who wagged their tongues. ‘Ex-wife of billionaire, Danielle Foster Harrington, dies after a brutal car crash.’