Illumi Death Novels & Stories

After the successful completion of a mission, Connor Weston, the youngest patrol division captain of the pack, had fallen into an eternal sleep on that rainy day. … After his death, my soul began to dissipate, like dew evaporating into the air under the morning sun. In my final glimpse, I saw Chris rush into the infirmary. He then fell to his knees and clutched Connor's hand, his shoulders trembling violently. Later, I saw Connor buried beside my grave. Our two tombstones stood close together, as they were always meant to be. I witnessed many pack members come to pay their respects, saying things like, "It was such a shame for a hero like him to die so young."

"Everyone always said you were born cursed. Just like that psychic said, you'd be the one to ruin me and keep me from what was rightfully mine. Even after they sent you away, I was still terrified. You not being dead is my nightmare every single night." Melody looked like a madwoman. "Later, I found that psychic again," she spat. "He was nothing but a fraud. My parents paid him well, so he pretended to be clever and made up a bunch of rubbish. But I wasn't satisfied. You deserved to die. I got this statue from him. He told me that if I stuffed a person's birth data and hair into it, I could burn that person's life away and make it serve me. So what if I copied your designs, Charlotte? It's a

But that illusion was about to be shattered. “As many of you know,” Lilly began, her voice cutting through the tense silence, “I was declared dead a few months ago by the members of the Anderson family. This was not entirely their fault, but rather the result of a mistake—a doctor providing them with the wrong information.” The room erupted into murmurs again, the reporters whispering frantically to one another, trying to make sense of what they were hearing. Lilly allowed the noise to continue for a moment before holding up her hand, commanding silence once more.

Camille paced around the living room, her hands twisting the hem of her dress while her mind churned with worry. First, Dr. Angela had come with the bad news, and now it was all over the news, in every channel and every social media outlet. Lumina Group's products had been linked to a death. A man had died... the reports said. The headlines screamed it in bold, and the news anchors rattled off facts and speculation. "Breaking news: A man has died under mysterious circumstances after using a drug called Luminol from the Lumina Group... police are investigating..."

Near her body, Shadow harshly pushed Zack away. Shadow hesitantly hovered his hands over her and checked her pulse, but there was none. Tears stream down his face uncontrollably. He yelled in pain. Zack tries to approach her, but grabs him by the neck when he got near and threw him away. He collided against a tree and fell down. Olivia arrives at the scene and feels down on her seeing that Lillian has died. Silent tears escaped her eyes. “I was too late.” she whispered. “YOU KILLED HER!” Shadow yelled at him. “YOU BROUGHT HER HERE WHEN SHE SHOULDN’T BE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

/What the fuck? “To prove to everyone we are dead. Cillian…he did it this morning. The whole pack came out to mourn us. I don’t know who the bodies were, he won’t say but two people were wrapped in linens and went up in flames and everyone, including Phillipe, believes it is us.” “So…I’m dead,” I croaked with a wry grin.

She didn’t ask for forgiveness, nor did she ask for help; she just seemed to understand, and that was all. Emmett’s light and my darkness closed the circle. Hall Blackwood died first. Giselle fell a second later. The silence that followed was so profound it hurt. My shadows retreated slowly, leaving the square littered with bodies, ashes, and living people who didn’t know whether to cry or breathe. Hall’s allies had been wiped out. His creatures had vanished. His corrupt magic had shattered along with him. But I felt no victory. I ran toward Eloise. Emmett was on his knees, holding her, his face drenched in tears. Isa wept silently. Temra’s hands were trembling, and Grace was muttering spell

“Wait… where’s Elliot?” Prince Ludiciel suddenly inquired. The square fell silent and Ron’s heart dropped to his stomach. His mouth opened, but no sound came out for he didn't even know what to say. How could he tell Ludiciel that Elliot—and so many others—were gone? That they weren’t coming back? Alaric stepped forward, his expression grim. “Some didn’t make it, Ludiciel.” He said, his voice quiet but heavy. “Dareth killed them all.”

My husband Christopher Lumiere succumbed to a deliberate overdose of sleeping pills. He was promptly rushed to the hospital, but was declared dead upon arrival—a lifeless husk. Emily Landon, his junior and the doctor tasked with saving him, failed to revive him despite her efforts. She solemnly passed me his official death certificate, heavy with sorrow. "He's gone, Yuna," she told me, anguished. "Please accept my condolences. I just need your sign here so we can send his body to the morgue."

--- Ilyra remained awake. --- One final file rested open in front of her. Old. Very old. Almost deleted. --- She turned the last page. Read the final notation. Then froze. --- SUCCESSFUL REINTEGRATION SUBJECT REPORTED NO FURTHER ATTACHMENT DISTRESS --- Beneath it: --- SUBJECT EXPIRED ELEVEN DAYS LATER --- No cause of death. No explanation. No supplemental report. Nothing. --- Just success. Then death. --- Ilyra stared at the page.