Famous Last Words Novel Novels & Stories

Every load of cum he leaves inside me a verse in the new scripture we’re writing with our bodies. His last day is a Sunday. He says Mass one final time. I sit in the front pew and he holds my gaze during the homily. His voice doesn’t waver because the man speaking isn’t conflicted anymore. He’s decided. He quotes Song of Solomon – the same verses he whispered while inside me on his desk – and every word carries a meaning that only I can hear. After Mass, the church empties. He removes his vestments for the last time and folds them with the same precise hands that have been unfolding me for four months, then he places them in the vesting cabinet and closes the door.

Beth smirked as she cocked the gun and squinted at me. I'm so scared, I think this is the end of the world for me. "Don't kill me! It's a pity!" I begged Beth but she laughed out loud like a demon. "Goodbye Agatha... just say hello to Don Jose in heaven," he said while holding the gun. "Don't!" I screamed but saw that my chest was covered in blood. While the darkness is slowly engulfing me, I can still see Beth's loud laughter. "My son..." was the last word I said,

Alexander growled, his sea-green eyes raking over mine as I held on to his arm, feeling the rush of adrenaline hum in my veins. “Dar,” Alexander whispered when he saw the tears in my eyes, cupping a large hand to my face and pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his nose brushing affectionately against mine before he whispered again. “I have to, I'll be right back,” Alexander whispered, pulling away from me so that I inhaled sharply. Weren't those the most famous last words ever? I shook my head, pushing back the chicken coop that was quacking in my head and nodding encouragingly at my man.

"No thanks. I'm not fortunate enough to enjoy the kind of happiness you're offering. I'm sure your new lover and your child are waiting for you. "Mr. Webster, I'd appreciate it if you stopped appearing in front of me." The whispers and judgment from the crowd were nearly drowning him out, but he paid them no heed. All he wanted was to keep me from leaving. "Cammie..." He reached for me. The more desperate he became, the more the blood rushed to his head. His vision gradually blurred, just like the day I'd left. By the time consciousness slipped away, he was already collapsing to the ground. Even then, he was still calling my name.

I got into the car and never looked back. Behind us, Charles Hart drowned in his own ruin, clinging to wreckage. Ahead of us, I was racing toward my own vast stars. The End

A man in a brown suit came and said, “Mr.Yukioshi, have you finished writing the book? Because you have to finish it by afternoon and after that; sorry to say but you will be executed.” In a grumpy voice Mr.Yukioshi replied, “You will have it before that. I’m almost finished.” Then the afternoon came, the sky was full of golden rays of the sun and during that time Mr. Yukioshi was being taken to be executed. But before that he met that publisher, handed over the book and pronounced his last words, “Hey you, publisher, I’ve a last word. Before you publish that book make sure that Ms. Rafa Jennifer gets to read this book first. I don’t ask anything of you.”

Famous last words. The street felt different the moment I stepped outside. I walked quickly, keeping my head down, pretending everything was normal. But I could feel it. Eyes on me. My heart started pounding. I turned sharply No one. But the feeling didn’t go away. I kept walking faster. Then A car door slammed behind me. My breath caught. I didn’t look back. Didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down.Footsteps followed.“Miss Celestia.”My blood ran cold. I froze. Slowly… I turned.

And with that, she turned away, smoke trailing behind her like a signature. Her last words lingered, soft and devastating: “Welcome to the mafia pawn shop.”

It just breaks my heart to see her like this. "Well, I am a Lycan, Chris and Nate are also Lycans as well. We are like you, but a little bigger.You, my little mate are what is called a werewolf shifter. To my knowledge, you are what we believe to be the very last of your kind." I hook my finger under her chin so I can look into her eyes, and slowlybrought my lips to hers. She gasped as soon as our lips touched with an explosion of sparks between us.

Sèdonoudè came in from time to time, though he too began to spend as much time as he could away, creeping furtively back to his bedroom, studiously ignoring Lala as well, both of them, unwilling witnesses, ashamed, frightened of the pity they could feel surrounding their beating hearts. No, this was no glorious death such as was found in the pages of Aldous Huxley’s last novel, Island. It was instead a quiet, sad, and futile giving up of all that there is. There would be no obituary.