John Cena Death Novels & Stories

We had hope of returning home, greeting our mates, and falling into their arms once more. Mike takes a seat, flopping onto the couch next to Seneca’s crib. He takes a moment to smile and say hi to her. To my surprise, she smiles back and reaches out “You are nice looking.” She says with fact to Mike, “Sometimes,” He replies to my child, the smile on his face dropping, and sweeps a hand over his thigh. A deep V forms between his eyes as he takes on a serious expression. “Jonda died.” He deadpans.

Startled, she took a step back. "Heh." Christopher stood behind her, laughing heartily. "Jenna, don't be afraid. I have something to tell you." "What?" She widened her eyes. This guy had always been unpredictable. He was exactly like Hansen. "Jenna, I know about your father's death and I'm very sorry. But, don't worry, Hansen will give you an explanation and it won't be too long," Christopher said sincerely. Javon's death was really unfortunate. Jenna silently lowered her head.

Laying there I realized that I was just going through the motions of everyday life. The Next Morning I went through the motions again while dressing myself and went downstairs to the dining room for breakfast, as I sat down I noticed that John and my father isn’t in the room yet. “Jon, do you know where our fathers are?” “In my office, I believe that they are discussing what they found out at the hospital yesterday.” “Oh, then we should know something shortly.” He nods as he watches the servers come in with our meals. After being served my father and John walks In. “There will be a meeting in the office after we finish eating.” John let us know. As we finish up with breakfast one by one we

“Grandpa invited Casper for tea last night.” “And you let him go?” Rex was angry and afraid. That tactic was known to all the Blades. “Would you have been able to stop him?” Jenna asked expressionlessly. Rex understood that Casper was stubborn yet, “But…” his words were interrupted by a beeping sound from Jenna's phone. She checked and saw an alert from social media. She tapped on it to see Grandpa’s picture with the caption, ‘Camden Blade, popularly known as Grandpa Blade, died from his own poison a few minutes ago.’

"His death was not noble sacrifice. It was suicide by heroism. He found a way to end his pain while still being remembered as a hero." "No." I stood. "That is not true. Colt loved me. He wanted to live—" "He loved you more than life itself. That is true. But he also wanted to die. Both can be true." Dr. Mitchell stood. "I am telling you this because you deserve to know. You deserve to understand that his death was not your fault. It was illness. And illness kills." "Get out." "Jenna—" "Get. Out." My voice was steel. "Right now. Before I have you thrown out."

10:18 pm, Noah: I've sent you some updated info about Shannon via email. As for James Sycamore, is he someone important to you? It looks like he passed away three days ago. Upon reading the last message, it felt like a sudden shock of ice-cold water. Ezra wasted no time and immediately dialed Noah's number. "Noah, what do you mean James is dead? How did it happen?" Ezra demanded urgently. "It made the news a couple of days ago. The family butler of the Christensens died in an accident. He fell from a three-story ledge and was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital," Noah explained.

It was then he knew this was his last day on earth. Outside Maddy, Kate, Mike, Porella, Andre and several bodyguards waited for one sound. Just then a loud gunshot whizzed through the air, it entered the window and hit its target right in the temple. Within minutes a crew came in and stripped the façade and revealed several containers that were retrofitted just for the purpose of this meeting. When they were done the only thing left was a dead man, sprawled across a table with a hole in his head. The next morning as the sun came up, the news hit the headlines – Defense Force DIRECTOR BEN JOHNSON FOUND DEAD on an empty lot in St. Greg.

"That's why I'm so proud of how united you and the team are. The way you lead them. Keep them together. Protect them. That's John's influence, even if you don't realize it." I don't realize it because I didn't fucking know him. Because he's been dead my entire life. "Fascinating," I say flatly. "So what happened?" Coach blinks. "What?" "You said he was talented. Had scouts. Had a future. So what happened? How did John die?" The warmth in Coach's expression evaporates instantly, replaced by something harder. Guarded. "It was an accident," he says carefully. "You already told me that. I'm asking how."

With his last breath, he shared his memories with me, leaving me to carry the weight of his father’s coldness and misunderstanding. He closed his eyes for the last time, just ten years old, with neither Anthony nor I by his side.

Even some Vaughn relatives showed up, careful but here. Evan raised his glass, voice cracking. “They survived everything meant to break them and they’re still choosing each other. That’s what I want.” Lena squeezed my hand. “We did it.” Then Evan’s phone rang. He stepped away. Came back pale. “It’s for you,” he said, handing it over. “Sounds bad.” “Mr. Vaughn? Oakwood Correctional Facility. Harrison Blackwood Jr. died of heart attack this morning.” The words hit like ice water. Lena’s face went white. Eleanor dropped into a chair.