Novel & Cerita Halle Death Note

' The 21st of March was the day I met freshman Hannah. That meant I was killed right after I took the train back. That explained why she never received a reply from me. Hannah nearly broke down. Who killed me? We had agreed to meet. We even promised we would attend the same college. Who was the person who killed me? Hannah's eyes welled with tears. She suddenly noticed a bloodstained note on the floor. The handwriting belonged to me. "Hannah, forget me." The paper had already turned yellow with age.

“And I ran…” “Straight into a dead body?” Nazte cut in. I glowered at him. “Yes.” Cendres sighed and ran a hand through his light brown hair. It was loose about his shoulders today, and it curled where it had been pushed back behind his ears. “You can’t expect the pack to believe that, Haile. Even if we do.” “Which you clearly don’t.” He shrugged apologetically at me. I didn’t buy it. “Look,” I said, fishing around in the folds of my cloak. “The killer left a note again.”

the lady left. Camille took the flower and her eyes widened out at the type of flower it was. Chrysanthemum flower. “Isn’t this a funeral flower?! Who—who dare!” Irene yelled out. A letter was between the flower, Camille took it out and read out the words on it, “Rest in death for an Eternity, Camille Guevara.” Camille breathed heavily, the letter slipped away from her hand. Who could have sent a death note? Who—

When Hilda arrived at work the next day, however, she saw everyone huddled together to watch the news. "Oh my god! That's so cruel!" "I can't watch anymore!" "How can something so gruesome happen in Taadi City?" Taking out her phone, Hilda saw that a headline was being circulated in the news media. A 21 year old foreign man with the last name Das was found dead at a guest house. His body was dismembered into twenty to thirty pieces that it was impossible to piece him back together. According to investigations, Das was the cousin of the popular young lady, Shamayeta Das!

“Then maybe don’t waste my time and make it ideal.” Hale’s jaw ticked. “We’re investigating the death of Councilman Harrow, as you know. Preliminary reports suggest foul play. You were both seen leaving the east wing of the gala minutes before his body was discovered.” Roman’s gaze sharpened. “Seen by who?” Hale flipped open the folder. “Several witnesses. Including Mr. Dante Valerio.” Roman laughed, that low, humorless sound that made the air shift. “Of course.” Elena tilted her head, masking the flicker of nerves that sparked in her stomach.

The Castle. Defeating the laws of speed and distance they challenged the time and there they were. The hall wasn’t that empty like last time. Ace and Zol were sitting on their respective seats. While Adam was sitting on a chair facing the center. Unbothered by Stephen or his friends. Stephen followed his gaze and his cool was shattered. Callum was tied to a chair. Conscious. Afraid. Crying. Gagging on the cloth tied in his mouth. "Why"? He just turned to Zol who pointed at Adam.

I clenched my hands tightly. Panic gripped me as I recalled the helplessness I had felt in my dying moments during my previous life. When I felt the strength returning to my palms, I was finally certain—I had been reborn. I glanced at the clock, knowing I would be informed that my house was on fire soon. Right on cue, the phone rang. It was our neighbor, Paula Klein. She yelled, "Caroline, get back here! Luna and Liam are home napping. Emery just left, and he isn't picking up his phone! Hurry!"

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie

I added, trying to reassure her. Halle let out a hollow sigh. “It’ll only be fine when I kill them and watch them get buried in the ground.” Her voice was thick with malice. I felt the same way. I needed to think of a solid plan to take him down. He had caused a lot of trouble and he deserved to die. “Sure, they’ll get what’s coming for them real soon.” I pulled her tighter. “Just stop wasting your tears on them. They don’t deserve it.”

CULLEN’s POV The rain poured heavily. The dark clouds loomed above, seething with fury. I sipped my bittersweet coffee as the Death Note on my desk began to glow faintly. I reached out and took it in my hand. An unfamiliar name appeared, along with the details of death. “Clark Stephen Daniel,” I muttered with a sigh. “Your time has come. I’m coming to collect,” I whispered, my voice void of warmth. It was time to reap his soul. The details were clear—he would die tonight, inside a nightclub.