Fake Death Novels & Stories

Death. Everyone was about to die.

"It doesn't matter since I can't be Eliza's mate anyway. Besides, as long as I'm with Amara, she won't interfere with Eliza's happiness." Only then did I realize that the one that my mate truly loved was also my stepsister. So, I've prepared a fake identity and planned a staged death at the hands of rogue wolves. After confirming the final arrangements for my fake death over the phone, I hung up. In two more days, I would disappear forever, just as they wished. Just then, I sensed a familiar, commanding wolf presence. I looked up instinctively to see my mate, Alpha Alaric Blackwood of the Blackwood Pack, still as imposing and well-groomed as ever.

"She couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. When I saw that... it scared me... I wanted to call a doctor, an ambulance, someone to help. She called me over, to-told me to sit down and listen carefully. She said she wanted me to promise her something before she goes..." Damien let out a sigh and wiped his tears. Ashleigh could feel tears building up in her eyes too. "She said I should promise to move on and continue being a good man... promise to live life to the fullest and not let anything stop me from doing so... be it sickness, be it poverty, be it loss, I should take it all as it comes. "I promised her I would then she... sh-she closed her eyes a-a-and that was it. She just... died...

I know that magic is just an illusion, a trick. Dusting my clothes, I made my way toward my team. They had now assembled themselves in one place, their eyes still holding surprise, and I could guess that they were waiting for me to explain. The crowds were as silent as a graveyard. They weren't making any of their stupid noises, and I am sure they were still trying to recover from the shock of seeing me again. That made me remember a story in the Bible that our Sunday school teacher told us about. It was the story of a man named Lazarus who was resurrected from the dead. The only difference between us is that I have been dead for two months, or should I say suffering and wandering around an

“She didn’t lie, Chloe. Luanne is really dead. So, how do you plan to make up for what you did to her? Should I break your legs? Drain your blood? Burn you to a crisp? Or run you over with a car?” Chloe’s face turned deathly pale from sheer terror, and she began to tremble uncontrollably. “G-Greg, what are you talking about? I… I don’t understand.” Greg snickered as he reached out, choked her by the neck, and said, “I said, Luanne is dead. So, you must be pretty thrilled, aren’t you?” Chloe managed to break free from Greg’s grip, coughing violently. “Greg, what on earth are you saying? How could Luanne possibly be dead? Didn’t we see her last night?”

I said, the horror of it sinking in. "Or," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "they moved her because she wasn't dead." The room spun. Faking her death. It was absurd, theatrical, impossibly risky. And perfectly, grotesquely Malice. "But why? And how?" I stammered.

"You're an orphan with no family ties. Serve a few years inside, and I'll pay you enough to live comfortably for the rest of your life. When you're out, I'll handle everything." He paused, his eyes narrowing behind the lenses. "But if you refuse, I'll use every resource at my disposal to ensure you can't survive in this city. And all the money I've given you? It will be reclaimed." Money... He knew it was both my weakness and my armor. My tears splashed onto the confession paper as I trembled from head to toe. The system prompted: "Host's acting skills at Oscar level. Strategy mission enters final settlement phase. Prepare for Faking Death exit."

"Don't... Elowen... don't do it." ​"He’s dying, Elowen," Silas whispered, the needle inches from my throat. "And if he dies here, in the First Life, he never becomes your Shield. He never saves you. He just becomes another body in the furnace." ​The countdown on the monitor hit 01:00. ​The girl on the table began to moan. Her fingers twitched. The violet light began to leak from her closed eyelids, a raw, unstable version of the power I carried.

“Not only to the room, but to our infirmary chain afterward. The corpse never left pack control until burial.” Kane turned from the window. “Unless the corpse was never Zach to begin with.” Silence followed. That theory had been sitting between us since Vivienne received the call. None of us liked it. It required planning, resources and a frightening level of knowledge about our security. Whoever had staged the death would have needed Zach’s scent, appearance, blood structure or enough illusion magic to deceive every check we performed. It was possible, but not simple. Asher leaned both hands against the table. “There are several ways to fake death. Blood mimi