God Is Dead Nietzsche Novels & Stories

The God of Death, Hades, stood before me with a somber look on his pale face. I’ve never met a God, and few can truly say they have. And none can say they met Hades as he only comes when your soul needs to be taken. Oh crap, I’m dead. His lips twitched like he could read my mind. He waved his hand, gesturing me to get up. “You aren’t dead. Yet.” he stated. I gulped as I rose to my feet. I towered over the God, having at least two feet on him.

" He still cannot believe the fact that he is no more; there were quavers in his voice. Kate and Melissa right away because he needed to be with his family. His voice trembled as he said, "No, no, no, I'm not dead." He walked up to his body and said, "I'm still breathing." He stated that he was not afraid because his body looked so young. "Young man, I'm taking you to the spiritual realm; you have been death since yesterday, and your spirit has been roaring this room," the god of death said. "No, I'm not dead," he protested. "Evil is smelling over you," the god of death said.

‘It was really Jordan,’ they said. That story fascinated me as a kid, but my father only told it once. He called it BS. Whenever I asked him to tell the story again, he would say this: ‘Let the dead lie in the land of the dead, so that which is dead would neither live again nor disturb the living.’ I never understood him then. But over the years, I realized he wasn't a man who believed that the dead could come back to life. However, there were things that humans, even werewolves, would never understand about the ways of the gods and nature.

"But Elias forced the current into him. It was a one-way transfer. A true bridge requires two pillars. If the human cannot push the current back, the bridge will collapse." Elias sat across from Valerius. "You want to learn the quiet," Elias said, using the human's term for the peace of the grid. "Yes," Valerius rasped. He looked exhausted, hollowed out by the sheer magnitude of his journey. "In my city... we build tall spires. We pave the roads. But when a man dies in the street, the man next to him only steps over the body. We did not know it was supposed to hurt. Until you made us feel it."

Her eyes are looking distant as she spoke. " Hera...tte" . . . . " The goddess of Death." And that's when the realisation hits Zander like a truck and suddenly his legs feel too weak to carry his weight. Dropping on his knees, he stared at the dead bodies and blood around him to shake his head a no. His lips trembled as he spoke. " No...this is not possible..nooo...." " Nooooooooooooooo!"

Obviously, I'm still alive; I can still feel my breathing, despite the fact that my entire body is suffering like if I couldn't survive. God Hades approached me gently, reaching out his hand to grasp the notebook with the three words, "Hector, how is the sense of standing in the middle of the Life and Death," he said as he sat down in front of me "isn't it wonderfully relaxing and pleasurable?", and Even though I was in immense agony, I could still display fury on my face as the deity grinned with a very cruel smile. "Killing me," I mumble aloud.

At least He can strike a perfect deal that will still benefit HIM. “You do not need to think of that, holder of the sixth gate, Nate.” He somehow assures him. “And you are right, I am not God, but still, I am one.” He vaguely explains, yet Nate immediately understands everything. Catch the real meaning from His words, even though Nate’s mind is in a chaotic stance. But it is screaming at Him that He choose the right one to be provoked for a deal.

"I guess I don't have a choice then. If you continue to be like this, then I won't hesitate to take your life myself." "I have no more life!" he told him. "I am just a ghost, and therefore you will not be able to kill me! I will continue to roam this world wherever and whenever I like. I will kill people and night hallows whenever I want. I will seize the entire world until everyone knows my name. Until the gods will fear me!" "The gods will never fear and stoop down to someone as low as you," he told him. "I've had enough of this pointless conversation, hearing about your whining against the gods. Why don't we settle this once and for all?"

his voice deepened, "hatred is like death: it does not sleep. It does not forget." He walked to the table and refilled his goblet. Raising it, he muttered as if to the air: "The world will soon see — the God of Tziyonia is no different from the broken and stone gods of Nyvarra, or the dead ones of Midras." Just then, a great thunder rolled across the sky. It did not crash with fury, but it groaned like a warning, like ancient stones grinding under the feet of giants. The windows trembled. The candle flickered.

What the hell was happening to me? Nyx and Erebus shared a look, the two of them having a conversation that didn’t need words. I hated the feeling of being excluded more than I already was, but a mix of fear and pain held me at bay. I wondered if fucking a god had some until-now unknown side effects, but my thoughts were interrupted. “I don’t know if you mortals have noticed this, but,” Erebus asked, watching me as all humor evaporated from his expression. “The gods are all dead.”