In Life Or In Death Novels & Stories

"Living people, he is a living person... This is the smell of living people! There are actually living people coming here! Haha! I want to have a big meal, eat happily! I haven't been full for a long time. Oh, I remember, I seem to be dead, but so what? Now I pursue flesh and blood, I just want to devour flesh and blood!" "What's death? What's life? Maybe I'm dead, and his aura... is the smell of a living person! A living person must not be missed! I'm going to swallow him, eat him! Eat, eat, eat, swallow, swallow, swallow! Kill, kill, kill, kill!"

“I’d like that.” “You sure?” “Yes. I want to.” They talked a little longer—about small things, about dinner plans they’d never find time for—and when the call ended, the room felt suddenly empty again. She placed the phone beside her on the couch, next to the signed contract. Two different lives, sitting inches apart. The thought settled heavily in her chest. She whispered to the quiet apartment, “It’s just work. Nothing else.” But even to herself, it sounded uncertain.

That's why I'm going to have a sit-down and see whether I want to deal or not. I wondered what it would be like, to focus on something else for once. To look forward to living when I'd been so hellbent on dying. Knowing that you'd lived past the day you thought you were going to be dead is an odd feeling. It doesn't feel so much like borrowed time but a rebirth.

“You’re telling me this revenge you want to carry out, is life or death? I hate him as much as you, if not more and I don’t think he’s going to kill you.” “Me?” He stood from his chair towering above me a good distance away so I had to turn and physically look up, not so much so that I was craning my neck but it was enough of an incline to shove a power imbalance in m face, “He would never be able to kill me no. He would be six feet under before he even had the chance to press even a butter knife to my throat. But others, he has all the capability of killing, but that’s not what makes this life or death Miss Laurence, as you are well aware he can destroy a person's life, and in a way sometim

Our lives are like a contract with our creator, of which the day of our death wasn’t specified, the only specification there was that we would live and die someday, the day would not be made known till it comes to pass. The luckiest some of us could get would be knowing that their death were really very close, but the day would be uncertain, sometimes, the moment explains the type of death to be experienced. Some undergoes certain terrible situations before they would finally give up the ghost, some likewise die accidentally making theirs shorter and less painful. Death should be one of the most feared occurrence in someone’s life, to fear death is the first step to careful living. In as mu

"Though as entertaining this is, the affairs of the still living are none of my concern. You'll have to speak to my opposite; Life." "So how do I find Life?" I asked, and Death shrugged, twirling his scythe as if it were a baton. "No clue. I deal with matters of death." "...you're of no help, you know that?" "I've upheld my deal, so I think I've helped way more than necessary. I'm just glad I didn't go fishing for your soul. Otherwise, I would've declined." My jaw drops at his comment, and he shrugs, fading away.

"My height is typical for the ladies. It's your fault for being too tall." "That means you're too short," Sam repeated determinedly. "Fine, it's my fault." Quinn gave up right then. "Though there's research that proves tall people never outlive short people. You're going to die early, Sam." Sam was washing the dishes and paused at that, turning on her and snapping, "Don't worry. I'll live longer than you will." "That's not up to you! Nobody chooses when they die!" "What's it going to be? Do you want me to die early so you can die early?!" Sam growled through his teeth.

he raises an eyebrow in my direction and sighs at my silence, “you seem to have made your life revolve around CF and forget that there is a world beyond the walls of your room” “I had no choice at birth,” I exclaim with exaggerated annoyance and get up abruptly from the chair, causing it to fall but no matter, “you think it's so easy to go out into the world and put my best face forward! No, you don't, you are in good health, while I remain with stupid cannulas in my nose because my lungs are unable to create more oxygen, day by day I think about death and I come face to face with it when I see myself in the mirror” My nostrils are dilated, my breathing accelerated by rage and tears flood my

It's a very thin line between life and death. Death...the only thing that really unites us all, the only thing that every single one of us is eventually going to have in common. And It doesn't matter if you're the richest or the poorest, death is going to come for you one day.

Why bring me into this world just to suffer? Alas, she couldn’t hear me, and even if she could hear me, she probably wouldn’t answer. Suddenly, I found myself wondering that when Mom realized I had died alone while she was happily celebrating her adopted daughter’s birthday, what would be her expression? Would she feel sad? Would she feel guilty, or would she remain just as indifferent as before?