God Of Death

It all seemed like a naughty prank at first. You know, the 'disappearing' trick lovers usually pull on each other to see who misses the other most? Yes, that was what Katniss thought at first until months passed and still, Noah was absolutely no where to be found.... Witty, beautiful and bubbly. Just a few adjectives to describe Katniss Costello's interesting and charming character. A young lady who had it all; from affluent parents to wealth and popularity to a quite amazing love life she shared with Noah Rogers, her then soon to be husband. Her life seemed to have come to a shattering halt after reality dawned on her that Noah might never return. She barely talked. Barely smiled. Barely went out, always bed ridden, gloomy and depressed. Void of all emotions. Indeed the shadow of her previous self. Her parents took advantage of the absence of her fiance and deemed it fit to have her married off to a proud, rich and arrogant son of their friend. She strongly opposed to the arranged marriage for few wisps of hope that he might return still laid in her heart. It was the motivation and inspiration she had to wait for him and when he does return, she'd still be here...waiting. When the pressure from her parents was getting too tough and unbearable, she wanted to get rid of it all, get rid of the emotional pain, get rid of the weight that was becoming far to heavy to carry. All she wanted was freedom, but there was only one way to do that... That night, underneath the Blue Moon, standing on the deck above the Ballad River where she wanted to end it all, there she met Asher Holden and that was the onset of her rollercoaster love life.

Five years after I broke up with my childhood sweetheart, Jason Thorne, my ALS progressed to its terminal stage. Since I can't receive any treatment for my disease at all, I decide to fly back to my hometown and wait for my death to come. Meanwhile, Jason has been dating a woman named Freya Tyler for five years. In fact, they are about to get married. Freya is even pregnant with Jason's child. We bump into each other in the hospital's garden. When Jason sees the blanket around my shoulders, he scoffs at me. "You're already this weak, and yet you're here all alone. It seems that your doctor boyfriend isn't taking good care of you at all. Then again, you did cheat on me with that guy. It only makes sense that your new relationship won't end well at all." Freya smiles brightly at me. "That's enough, Jason. It's not like everyone is capable of taking care of me very well, just like you do. "Our wedding will be held at the base of a snow mountain in Selvaria. You simply must attend our wedding, Ms. Moyer." As I gaze at Jason's cold and arrogant expression, I do my best to suppress my feelings of longing and guilt. Instead, I reply calmly, "No, thank you. I'm not interested in my ex-boyfriend's life. I'm only staying here for a short while. In the future, I will never come back ever again." Jason merely huffs before turning on his heel and walking away. But when I depart from this world, he loses his will to live too.

Even in her wildest dreams, Elara never imagined she would be loving her own reaper. Given all she gained and had to her boyfriend only to find him humping her stepmother, Elara thought this the worst possible thing to happen in life. Just to find herself in hell, surrounded by dead people and trapped in a survival game. Would she survive and chase after her oppressors? Or would she simply die... Forever?

Bunso sa magkapatid si Carmelita. Madali sana ang buhay niya dahil nakapagtapos na ng pag-aaral sila at tanggap na ang kanilang pamilya sa kanyang lolo at lola, pero habang na sa sinapupunan palang si Carmelita may marka na ng isang sumpa ang kanyang pagkatao. Sa edad na labing-walo tatalab ang sumpa. Sumpa na makakabago ng paningin ng ibang tao sa kanya at ang kanyang paningin sa sarili. "Carmelita, Ganyan na ba talaga ang tingin mo sa akin? Do I look that desperate for a child?"

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen. But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment. The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens. Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker. "Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?" I froze. Alex was here? A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?" It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards. He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims. Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company. I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise. Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button. Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony. The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides. Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die. Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die." He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me. They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.

Hemera Hestia Monsieur is half Pinay half Spanish. She has a broken family. Her parents were already divorced since she was young. That's why she stayed with her mother in the Philippines. She doesn't t have a stable job. And she only has one friend that she trusts. She always receives an indecent proposal. But she's a very positive woman who always sees the good side of anything and everything. After losing a job, she tried to find another job. And luckily she found one. She decides to live with her best friend who is living in an apartment with some male friends. There, she met a man who she can lean on and was comfortable being with. She never feels safe around some guys. But then, that man changed everything.

What is obsession? Am I obsessed? At first, I was just his substitute, then I became his real bride, then the supposed real bride returned, and I was kidnapped, tortured, and forced to divorce. Then I committed suicide because I couldn’t handle it, but I didn’t fucking die. Then I became a stalker of my ex-husband, who barely remembers me because I was declared dead by the world, and my face got melted down when acid was poured on me. I had a surgery that changed my whole face and my entire identity. Then I started working for him again and he fell in love with the new me, yet still traumatized by the old me, so I had to reveal to him that I was the same person. He was happy and relieved, but the world wasn’t. We were chewed on, spat out, and stepped on. Then he was fired from his company by his grandmother, who adopted a new son to take over the company. Then I was kidnapped again, and bombs were planted on me. We were able to defuse the bomb and escape. Then we were shot in the head by God knows who. His surgery was successful, but mine wasn’t, so I forgot everything about him and was forbidden to remember because a damn bullet is stuck in my head that could kill me if it moves to a sensitive part of my brain. Then suddenly, he was on the TV, framed for murder. I couldn’t hold back, I found myself in prison fighting for him with a gun in my hand, and somehow ended up in a coma, because the damn bullet in my head shifted… to the wrong direction. Then, in between this chaos, the doctor announced I-was-pregnant.

That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack. I shouldn't have. When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty. Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter. The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me with the rare tumor that plagued our kind. Without inhibitors, I couldn't stop Isla's transformation that came early, her six year old body couldn't handle the massive wolf form and the force ripped through her young body. And I, for one, don't even have enough money to keep her in a treatment center. She died in my arms three days later, her little claws drawing blood as the pain overwhelmed her. Until her last breath, she kept asking why Papa hadn't come. Now, in my cold, empty home, with the white porcelain urn containing her ashes on the table, I touch her and decide to sever our partnership.

Evan Moore is the perfect husband in everyone's eyes. He gives me a grand wedding and fully supports my career dreams. When I faced a difficult labor, he stayed by my side, kneeling for a full day and night until he nearly passed out from exhaustion. Afterward, he held me in his arms, sobbing until his eyes were red and swollen, his voice trembling with fear. "Honey, let’s not have any more kids… It's just too much." From then on, he spends his days and nights at the monastery, praying devoutly for me and our son, earning the title of the city’s most pious CEO. But one day, by pure chance, I glimpse the handwritten scriptures he keeps so carefully copied. And that's when I realize every word, every stroke, is a confession of his undying love… for his first love. All his tenderness, all his care—it was never truly for me. It was learned for her. I was nothing more than practice—a stand-in for his so-called true love.

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.