He Was A Dead Man Walking To His Fate Novels & Stories

He said and walked upstairs. His mother's face twisted in disbelief, her mouth opening to argue, but he was already walking away. The sharp click of his dress shoes against the staircase echoed through the house like a gunshot.* Bella scoffed loudly behind him. "Wow, someone's whipped." But Alan didn’t even glance back as he took the steps two at a time. When he reached Hazel’s room again, he kicked the door shut behind him and locked it with an audible click.

"No, you need to be here. I'll go back with the driver." "How can I leave you alone when your condition is like this? I'm also coming with you." He says but my pain grows more making me breathless. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die. Without saying anything I start to walk. Cause I don't want to become the attention seeker. I was walking but suddenly I tripped over the red carpet. And I found myself falling flat on my face. I'm Doomed. What a bad day.

I commanded as I walked out, leaving them to their well-deserved fate. As I exited with a smile on my face, the screams and sounds of flesh tearing filled the air, a fitting lovely soundtrack to the fate that awaited anyone who dared to cross me. I made my way back into the mansion, my steps confident and determined. Richard was next, and he would soon learn the price of betrayal.

Someone is going to die. I see it before I understand it. A man walking ahead of me, shoulders slightly hunched, breath shallow. The weight around him is not panic or violence. It is exhaustion. A body that has been holding itself together for too long. His ending isn’t sudden. It’s quiet. Soon. My steps slow. Instinct pulls me forward, the familiar urge to do something, to reach for meaning where none has asked to be rearranged. I don’t know what that something is.

His hands reached out , as if he wanted to crawl out of there, but unfortunately was too late. He is dead. Crushed to his final destination. I don't know what got to me then, I somewhat wished another bus should come running by and crush his hanging head. I want him gone forever. I don't want to see him any more. Everyone was already moving towards the scene to check out what happened. I slowly moved to him, to see the horrified man in front of me. He is dead, and out of my life. That was what I thought. PRESENTLY I slowly backed off away from him as he moved towards me.

“So, shall we proceed now? Many people are looking forward to your demise.” “Sure, let’s go to the casket.” After I stated that, I walked up to him, and the two of us walked right out the door and began our journey to the graveyard of death. Am I ready to die? I gave a bitter grin. “Of course,” I whispered into the air.

"And that fate, is worse than death." What?

We had always been told that once we reach this span of life, this was it until we outlived ourselves and finally fell to peace. “It was rare but it happened,” he tells me. He looks stricken with grief for only a single moment, before he shakes his head, looking at me. “Come with me.” All of a sudden, we are moving. We walk down the wharf a small way, before he walks me back down through an alleyway. I know he doesn’t want to be seen by anyone, but this is starting to get ridiculous. That is, until he walks to the nearest door, and opens it. I look up, wondering if he is dragging me into someone elses home.

A click sounded; my handcuffs were tied, and the man did not mean to push me, slowly waiting for me to step out. “You are exceptional; I have received orders to lead many people to fines. Someone crawled on the ground, screaming hoarsely. Some people fainted on the spot, only to wake up when hung up. Only you look like you are walking.” He said. I looked up at the iron door that slowly opened and asked. “The friends you just said, what is their fate?” "Of course, they're all dead. Those who receive an S-rank punishment are all unforgivable criminals.” Halfway through the conversation, the man stopped and looked at me sympathetically. "You must eat this last meal; you will suffer greatly in t

he continued, interrupting my train of thought, “you’ll be like that guy.” He pointed at a cage—the only one that was occupied—and what I saw tore a gasp from my lips. There was a thin man lying there with his mouth agape and his eyes clouded. No, I couldn’t say he was a man. He was barely there. I’d never seen someone that starved out before. “He’s dead!” I proclaimed. “Yes, he is,” he replied dryly before walking away from me. I couldn’t take my eyes off the dead man. How long had he been here? What had he done to deserve such a thing?