Henry Danger Death Novels & Stories

“Of course, I want to hear it.” Cole didn’t keep her waiting long and continued immediately. “He’s not dead, but he broke his leg.” Margaret let out a soft “oh,” her mood instantly brightening. “Really? How did he break his leg?” “Why are you only telling me this now about such good news?” Cole quickly recounted everything. “After returning from Bennett Corporation, Henry went out to meet his friends.” “On the way, a truck lost control and rushed toward him. His driver braked suddenly, and although they didn’t go off a cliff, the crash was severe, his leg was broken...”

--- Across the city, Dante stood over the table in silence as photographs were spread before him. Dead men. Destroyed warehouses. Old reports. Old blood. One photo in particular remained separated from the others. A younger version of his father standing beside several men. One face had been violently scratched out. Dante stared at it. Jaw tight. “Who did this?” he asked coldly. An older man beside him hesitated. “No one speaks his name anymore.” Dante’s eyes lifted slowly. “Then say it to me.” The older man swallowed hard. And for the first time in years—

He was always so romantic, so gentle but those nasty words had me soaking, and God, I loved this new dangerous side of him. “Oh Liam,” I mumbled, biting my lip, with my hand tangled in his hair. His fingers traced down my half-naked body, jolting every desire. He knelt before me, his hands unbuttoning my pants and sliding them off, leaving me in just my panties. He paused and lifted his head to look at me, his eyes with a question. I nodded, giving him permission to continue. He immediately pulled down my underwear, his gaze still on me as his tongue glided over me, so close to my pussy. His tongue brushed against my clit and I couldn’t help but moan helplessly.

But now the evidence was disappearing, going up in smoke. Should he turn back? Run inside? "For what?" There was nothing to save. Henry was dead, and the house was now burning. There was nothing left but ash and the memories of a night that would haunt him forever. Maybe, just maybe, some unseen force was helping him clean up the mess. Maybe this was a sign. But the sickening realization hit him like a punch to the gut: he had killed someone. Accident or not, Henry was dead, and his hands were far from clean.

The trees parted into a small, murky clearing where Arnaud stood, tense and grim, beside a crumpled figure sprawled on the ground. My chest tightened as I approached seeing the sight before me. There, lying among broken branches and scattered leaves, was Henry—lifeless, his eyes wide open, staring at the sky above. Blood streaked across his throat, pooling beneath him, seeping into the ground. His face was frozen in an expression of terror, his mouth slightly open as if trying to scream. A bullet struck in his chest, he was murdered in cold blood. I shifted, catching my breath, grabbing Henry's lifeless body. I can't believe he's dead. I struck his hand, he shouldn't be dead. I need to find

I dropped the gun and bent down, panting heavily. Gosh! This dude really gave me a hard time.. I was still trying to catch my breath, when I heard some sounds.. I turned back and to my surprise I saw a knife flying to my heart.. What the hell? I quickly moved my body aside but it was too late, the knife screeched passed my arm. "Arghhhh" I yelled as blood, gushed from the wound.. "We..re..n..ow even" Henry stuttered before finally dropping dead.

Liliane sat down in the spot next to me, pretending to open a magazine while her voice drifted to my ear. "Just left," I lowered my voice. "We don't have much time, so I'll make this quick. "Henry is extremely dangerous. In the real world, he's the prime suspect in three brutal murder cases with exceptional counter-surveillance skills. He hid in this game to enjoy the thrill of the hunt. He's already won six consecutive rounds, and his net worth is conservatively estimated at over five billion." I fell silent for a few seconds. "What do you want me to do?"

Eros nodded as a sign that he understood Ersa’s meaning, “Continue.” Before Ersa continued, she takes a glass of water and then took a sip of the water. “Henry is dead. He was killed by the psychopath who kidnapped him last month. I don’t know this information’s accuracy, but the underworld people get the news faster than the police. They don’t want to deal with this one psychopath because they think they are agile and have many wicked ideas. Not only Henry died that night, but also a couple who committed adultery.” Hearing this did not surprise Eros at all. He knew Henry would never come back again and couldn’t ask the old man.

He took the fatal hit meant for her, willingly giving his soul for the dragons to be destroyed. Aurora fell to her knees, screaming from the pain in her heart. She moved towards Henry, crawling on her hands and knees. She remained in denial, hoping he was just hurt or unconscious. He couldn't be dead. But the pain in her heart told her he was. And when she crawled up to where he lay, another agonized scream ripped out of her. The deep claw wound on his chest had damaged his heart terribly. Henry was dead.

It threw him back with tremendous force. Dustin’s face remained impassive. This was the inherent risk in this game. The two liquids were special in that if they expanded or contracted too quickly, an explosion would occur. Henry had intended to catch Dustin off guard, but instead, he paid the price. The force of the explosion was not fatal but not entirely harmless either. It could wound, or in a worse case, cripple someone. Henry’s men rushed forward in panic to help him up. Henry’s body was scorched, his hair was disheveled, and his clothes were in tatters.