For The Gaze Death Becomes Her 소설 & 이야기

"The fire didn't kill her. She was shot first—three times." "One in the chest. One in the left leg. And the last…" He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with the ashen-faced Dave. "Right between her eyebrows." "No…" Dave's legs buckled and he collapsed to his knees. "You're lying… that's impossible!" "Do you know why her death was so brutal?" Edward's voice dropped into something cold enough to freeze marrow. "Because she lost her mind. She watched her son die in front of her—hit by a car. She snapped instantly. She clutched Giles's body like a torn rag doll, hiding in a pile of trash, soaked in his blood."

His voice was like echoes of death bells ringing in her ears. His eyes blazed when he said those words and she swallowed, regretting her actions. She might bring out the Raze she met on the first day, the one that might beat the pulp out of her. Raze didn't like that stare she was giving him, she trembled in fear and tears lazed her big hazel eyes blinking at him and he cursed. She acted as if he wanted to kill her right now when he wanted to kiss her silly until she was breathless.

I thought I'd die with regret, but the pain never came. "Meghan!" Gerald's shout snapped me back to reality. I opened my eyes and saw her gasping for breath before me, blood steadily seeping from her back. Before I could react, a scream rang out nearby. It was my colleagues who had just gotten off work. I scooped Meghan up and shouted to them, "Call an ambulance! Hurry!"

That softness keeps me grounded. I reach into the bottom drawer of my desk and pull out my spare makeup bag. If I’m going to take this man apart, I need to look sharp doing it. Touching up my lipstick, I check my lashes, fluff my hair, and lift the mirror to scan for flat spots—then freeze. A flash of green in the reflection. Familiar. My mirror slips from my hand as I whip around. Nothing. “I could’ve sworn—” “El, he’s sweating like a whore in church,” Halle says as she returns. “Shirt’s soaked. Looks like he’s going to melt out of his jack… et… Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

"It was you, wasn't it, Yvonne? Did you threaten Camilla into taking your corneas?" My cheek stung painfully, but I laughed. The corners of my lips curved upward. Sooner or later, Howard would be wallowing in the deepest of regrets. Thankfully, this time, Camilla had made up her mind to take my corneas. That night, coaxed into it by Camilla, Howard disconnected my oxygen supply. I had gone through countless brushes with death, but the suffocating feeling I felt made it clear to me that I was truly going to die this time. I felt an excruciating pain in my chest. It was as if someone had stabbed me with a dagger and was twisting it around.

Caleb suddenly recalled grabbing the urn from my mom and flinging it down the bridge, and also the frenzied state my mom was in. For an instant, he almost lost his balance. The doctor continued, "Ms. Wells has been dead for days now, but you never came to visit her, so of course, you didn't know that…" Caleb staggered a little as he let go of the doctor. A moment later, Caleb's eyes turned red, and his expression was contorted even more. Caleb punched the wall nearby with so much force that the wall caved in a little. Abandoning his pride, he shouted, "Didn't you say that it'll be fine? You said that she'll be okay, right? Why… Why did she die? Why?"

She observed his numb figure intently, becoming completely frozen as she detected the footsteps drawing nearer in her direction. Gradually, she averted her glossy eyes upwards and was witness to the hollow, vacant stare fixed upon her. There was no trace of remorse in his eyes, even after he had just taken the life of another human being with his own bare hands. Her gaze bore into his, fueled by anger, pain, and above all, a pressing question regarding why he had chosen to kill him when he had promised to end her life instead. Eventually, she felt him draw closer to her, as he leaned his head towards her face. His dark, demonic eyes pierced her gaze, and she could feel his warm breath brushi

She resists, her fear giving her a strength borne of desperation. But there is no help to be had. The crowd is now silent once again, unmoving mass, watching with morbid fascination. Her sobs turn to heaving, soundless gasps as she is forced down, her neck positioned over the slab. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment, a fleeting connection that feels like a punch to the gut.

she spits, voice a little too high. I glance up, staring into her eyes, and finally I see it: a break in the barrier, confusion in her grey irises. It’s a gamble, but with a shuddery breath, I whisper, “So kill me.” She presses the knife deep, and I can no longer breathe. Still, I don’t look away. I don’t shift. If I have to die, at least let it be looking at her. But before I can blink, she’s gone.