Fake Death Novels & Stories

Matteo was silent for a moment before saying, “If this is what you want, I’ll make it happen.” He said he would arrange a car accident for my fake death in three days, on the day of my fifth wedding anniversary with Elijah. “Hazel, I have to remind you that every year on your anniversary, Elijah never leaves your side. Are you sure you can find a chance to fake your death?” Even Matteo, far away in Sinticily, knew how much Elijah valued me. “If he doesn’t leave, then I’ll cancel the plan. This is the last chance I’m giving him.”

“Do you realize how much money I can bag when I capture you and take you back to Alpha Alec? Not only will I be rewarded, but I’ll be praised for capturing a traitor who faked her own death.” I looked at her, puzzled. “I didn’t fake my death; as you can clearly see, I’m alive.” What the hell was she talking about? How would I fake my death? It just wasn’t possible. The only way that would be possible is if someone found a burned body and somehow Beth managed to convince them it’s me. Even then, knowing Alec, he would demand a DNA test be done, unless the body was burned to ash, which I still doubt Alec would easily believe it’s me without proof.

“Hm. So what are you doing here?” What was he supposed to say? “Are you dream walking?” She sounded intrigued. The nearly dead had a way of knowing things the living couldn’t even begin to understand. “In a manner of speaking. It’s more like … dream observing.” “Well,” she said, turning away to look at the group of mourners standing around her grave, “not much to observe here, is there?” He smiled. “You’re here.” “I’m boring.” “No, you’re not.” “I’m dying. Dying people are boring – we don’t have much to say.”

"Where is Damien? Real Damien?" "Dead. Really dead this time. Killed him myself. Three weeks ago. Switzerland. Before you arrived. Body you saw—real. Everything after—puppetry. Recorded messages. AI reconstruction. Deep fake. Whatever you want to call it. Point is—Damien died. You did not know. Did not suspect. Too busy surviving. Too busy—grieving." The pain was physical. Real. Crushing. Damien. Dead. Weeks ago. And I—I never knew. Never felt it. Too distracted. Too—

Only… calculation. “The truth,” she repeated, almost laughing under her breath. “Funny word, truth. Everyone wants it, but when they get it, they regret it.” “Stop playing,” Damian snapped. “Did you fake your death?” Michelle tilted her head, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Yes.” The word was delivered so casually, so cruelly, I actually froze. She said it as if she were admitting to skipping lunch. “Yes?” I echoed, my throat dry. “Yes,” she said again, her tone light, mocking even. “I died. And yet, here I am. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Some stumbled backward, while others threw up on the floor. The venue descended into chaos. Amidst the pandemonium, Wyatt grabbed Celia's arm, his face riddled with anxiety. "How did this happen? How is Elliot actually dead?" he questioned. But before Celia could even respond, her knees buckled, and she collapsed heavily onto the floor. "How could he be dead? He took a drug to fake his own death. I left food and water in that casket… Right! It's just the drug. The drug hasn't worn off yet. He's not dead!"

Theo's eyes lit up when he saw Jax. He paid no mind to his bleeding wounds and stumbled over to try to hug Jax. However, Jax deftly avoided him, leaving him to tumble onto the floor. "Are you the one disturbing my mother?" Jax questioned. Theo looked stupefied. "What are you talking about, little pup? I'm your father!" Jax's expression remained neutral as he said, "Please watch what you say. My father is dead. He died when he allowed someone else to set a fire and hurt my mother."

Closed casket. Cause of death: internal hemorrhage after a lab accident. No body view “due to damage.” Her grandfather standing rigid. Not crying. Not once. Mason broke the silence. “That’s deepfake tech. It has to be.” Caleb shook his head immediately. “No. That feed was analog to digital direct. No interference artifacts. No AI rendering glitches. That was live.” Origin’s eyes never left Ariana. “You were told he died in a research accident.” “Yes.”

Death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death, death

"If I do this, if I fake my death—I cannot contact anyone. Albert. Antonio. Grace. They will think I am really gone." "They will grieve. That grief will be authentic. X-One and X-Two will detect authentic grief and accept your death as real. Fake grief gets noticed. Real grief sells the deception." X-Three grabbed my flickering hand. "You want to protect them? Make them believe you are dead. It is the only way." "How do I know you are not just X-One wearing a conscience as camouflage? How do I know this is not another layer of manipulation?"