Handbook Of The Recently Deceased Novels & Stories

Shanice stated slightly confused. "But today's the 27th." "Oh..." Realisation finally hit Shanice. She finally understood her daughter's miserable mood all week. Her deceased husband's birthday was something she tried to forget. She hadn't been to his grave in 5 years and thinking about him made her feel bad. Shanice cleared her throat before she went on, "I understand honey. But... you're not the only one who's hurting from losing a loved one." Ashleigh looked at her mother in confusion, "He is too."

I said and then rolled my eyes, he still has the feeling but to be honest I miss this person. "This is exactly how you go back to your old habits." Coming back? "Wait... Wait, what's coming back? Why? I thought you were retired?" I said, pff, I'm still pissed at him, but he looks so serious that he can be surprised. "This is it, because the investigation continued... Regarding what happened in the Sahara, Zachary is said to have been seen by them visiting himself, visiting his own grave." He said with a frown on my forehead, is he still alive?!

Yuria said as she flung a little black book at him. Chase used his consciousness on the book and found it was sealed with a layer of prohibition. It was used to mask one's aura. Something about it felt familiar to Chase. "What is this?" he asked in surprise. "The Book of Life and Death," Yuria replied nonchalantly. "What? The Book of Life and Death? Are you trying to trick me?" Chase did not believe her. That was the true form of the Life and Death Martial Path Ancestor. The Book of Life and Death was now used only as a remembrance for him since he became a martial Path ancestor, and was used to record the reincarnation of millions of beings in the Hall of Death.

His face was pale, lifeless, but unmistakable. “Oh, Moon Goddess…” My breathing quickened. I turned to the next table, Elder Cora. Then another, Elder Finn. Every missing elder… every one of them was here. I stumbled backward, nearly tripping over a fallen clipboard. It was a journal. With trembling hands, I picked it up. The first page was filled with notes, dates, and names. Each entry listed a death. Each death was labeled “silenced.” “No…” I whispered, flipping through the pages faster, but my fingers shook too much to hold them steady. “This… this can’t be real…”

“Dear Mrs. Hale, An automated message has been sent to notify you that a routine compliance review has been initiated as a result of an international transfer on a legacy account from under your former legal jurisdiction. No action is needed for now.” Stephanie slowly exhaled through her nostrils. Legacy account. She scrolled. “That transaction took place 48 hours ago and involved the transfer of funds between different currencies and jurisdictions. Please be aware: the account holder is deceased. Status unchanged.” Her fingers were just curling on the surface of the tabletop. Deceased. She knew precisely which accounts she’d managed that qualified in that way. How many had been closed, arch

They stepped inside. Raven’s sharp blue eyes scanned the spines—titles in languages older than Arcadia Prime, bindings of shadow-leather and bone. Victoria moved with purpose, fingers trailing over volumes until she stopped before a thick tome bound in matte black hide that drank the light rather than reflected it. Silver script crawled across the cover like living veins: *Intricate Military Command of the Dead* *Advanced Studies in the Art of Necromantic Warfare* Raven reached up—standing on tiptoe—and pulled it free. The weight surprised her; this was no slim intermediate text. This was dense, heavy with diagrams of battlefield sigils, troop formations of the risen, rites for coordinating

he repeated. Grant gave a small nod. “Exactly.” Damian looked up. “You found something inconsistent.” Grant tapped one of the pages. “Look at the lead researcher.” Damian lowered his eyes to the file. The name printed at the top read: Dr. Miriam Hale Position: Director of Genetic Therapy Research. Project: Aurora. Damian read the status line. Missing — Presumed deceased He frowned. “Presumed?” Grant nodded. “There was never a confirmed body.” Damian leaned back slightly.

And it turned out to be about the GK Group. “The Phoenix City has encountered a great loss, the death of a man who has made immense contributions to the city's economy. As the Old Master and Matriarch of the Harrisons Empire is buried tomorrow, we all wish him everlasting peace and happiness in the other world. Our heartfelt condolences go to his family, especially his grandson, Lucas Harrison.” Heidi's hand stopped with the remote. Feeling the flood of emotions rushing up her chest, she took in a deep breath to prevent her tears from falling.

Axel asked. "Weeks. Maybe a month. But certain worlds are going faster than others. The ones most damaged by your actions are failing first." He zoomed in on one mirror. "The Sandman's Sandbox, for example, is already gone. Completely erased. Any deadies who were there when it collapsed were erased with it." My stomach dropped. "How many?" "Forty-three deadies were in that world when it ceased to exist." Dracula's tone was matter of fact, but his eyes held something that might have been regret. "They're gone. Not dead. Beyond death. Simply unmade."

May’s POV I had lost count of the number of times my aunt, Brittany scurried in and out of my dressing room to remind me how many more minutes I had left. She was in fact more busy than anyone else in the room. She was the only family my siblings and I knew after our parents mysterious death in a ghastly motor accident. That was the darkest Friday of our lives. Ten years later and we still found every memory fresh in our minds.