Jon Snow Death Novels & Stories

On the night of the full moon, I take my mate, Kyle Fenwolf, back to my pack for the full moon ceremony. Before the start of the ceremony, I head over to the sacred spring to wash my hands. Upon returning to the venue, I find out that Kyle has gone missing. I quickly looked for the guards, only to be told that I came to the pack on my own. When I asked my packmates, who were here to attend the ceremony, they told me that they never saw anyone by my side. But the thing is, I came back with Kyle! He had just given me the bone flute that he had personally carved! He even told me that he'd teach me how to play it once the ceremony was over! How could he be gone all of a sudden? As I stared at the flute, which was still warm from Kyle's body heat, in my hands, I strongly requested the guards to search around the forest and the pack territory. Thanks to my strong demands, the ceremony was forcibly interrupted. The pack's enforcers searched the entire territory for Kyle, and yet they never found him. They couldn't even pick up on a trace of his scent. They asked my father, who was the pack's Alpha, for answers. But Dad claimed that I was mentally ill, and that I dreamed up a mate on my own. In the end, I was thrown into the dungeon. There, I got ripped into shreds by the other insane wolves. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day when I'm meant to bring Kyle home.

My husband's secretary, Regina Wade, claims she is a lucky charm. She wins every lottery ticket she buys and even wins three bets in a row. In truth, she is just transferring her bad luck onto me. In my previous life, she confidently invites the entire company to gamble, and everyone walks away with huge winnings. Well, everyone except me, as I lose everything. Regina throws money around in the casino, indulging her vanity, while my face rots and my body becomes riddled with illness. She conducts livestreams to auction off her good luck, while I get hit by cars every time I go out and almost die from infection during surgery. When I ask my husband, Jack Burns, to investigate her, he points at me angrily and scolds, "Ariel Nichols, stop blaming your bad luck on Reggie. You are just jealous that she is lucky. With such vicious thoughts, you deserve to get hit!" Three days later, Regina wins a trillion-dollar gamble and gains boundless wealth. I, on the other hand, bleed from inside and die suddenly. Even until my death, I never figure out why I have such terrible luck. When I open my eyes again, I return to the day Regina first claims she is a lucky charm.

"I'm sorry, but this flight is overbooked. We're going to compensate you twenty dollars. Please deplane immediately." The head flight attendant had my suitcase in a death grip. Her tone wasn't a request—it was an order. I gave her a cold look, then turned my gaze to the man beside us, who had just been escorted onto the plane, draped in designer labels. "Why does he get to board after showing up late, while I—who paid full price—am being forced off?" She let out a mocking laugh and lowered her voice to taunt me. "Because he's the son of a top-tier medical conglomerate in Scallow City. He's rushing there to beg an elusive miracle doctor—the famous Phantom Surgeon—to save his life. "No matter how urgent your business is, can it really compare to a human life? If you delay Mr. Stafford, ten lives couldn't pay for it. Now get off." Several security guards dragged me off the plane by force as I watched the cabin doors close. I laughed in sheer disbelief. The "Mr. Stafford" she was talking about was William Stafford, and he was terminally ill. What she didn't know was that I was the very "Phantom Surgeon" his entire family had been on their knees begging for three months—pleading with me to fly to Scallow City and perform his surgery today. Since they threw me off the plane, I won't be doing that operation. As for William, he can go ahead and wait for death.

My family has always considered me a harbinger of misfortune. It's all because I can see a countdown to my relatives' deaths. I tell them when my grandfather, father, and mother will die. It all comes true due to various accidents. My three brothers hate me to the core because they think I cursed my parents and grandfather. My mother actually dies after giving birth to my younger sister, but my brothers dote on her to no end. They say she's their lucky star because everything goes well for the family after she's born. But didn't Mom die while giving birth to her? On my 18th birthday, I see my death countdown when I look at myself in the mirror. I buy an urn I like and prepare a meal. I want to have one last meal with my brothers, but none of them show up even when the timer hits zero…

My husband forces me to donate my remaining kidney to his true love. He wants to save her from death by uremia. I try to tell him that I have kidney failure—I'll die if I donate my kidney. However, he roars, "Stop playing your jealous games when Shawna is so gravely ill! Don't you have a heart?" Under his forcefulness, I'm taken to the hospital to get my kidney removed. Ultimately, I die in a corner of the hospital.

On the fourth day after my son's death, I decided to secretly dissolve my military marriage with my husband. Before that, I had three days to settle everything for my son. On the first day, I tricked my husband into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to the school and collected the textbooks my son would never get to use. On the third day, I cooked a table full of dishes and begged my husband to celebrate our son's last birthday. He agreed, but soon after claimed he had a mission. Instead, he spent the entire night setting off fireworks with his childhood sweetheart. That night, I cooked. Then, I sat alone before my son's photo and ate all my son's favorite foods. The next day, my husband returned, guilt flickering in his eyes as he handed me a brand-new backpack. He said it was a gift for our child's first day of school. But he didn't know—our child would never have a first day of school.

Six years after donating my heart to my wife, she destroyed the last of my family. Over those six years, she ended my mother’s treatment, letting her die slowly in agony. She deliberately caused a car accident that shattered my father’s spine, forcing him to watch my mother die while trapped in a paralyzed body. Even our daughter was not spared—locked away in a pitch-black basement, she starved to death alone. She did all of this for one reason: to force me—the heartless, faithless man she believed I was—to reveal myself. But during those six years, the love I once had for her turned into boundless hatred. I refused to let my soul dissipate. I stayed—waiting for the day she would learn the truth, and collapse under the weight of her regret.

My sister was the golden child, the pride of our family, but she had a rare blood disorder that required treatments costing thousands every month. To keep her alive, I became her personal blood donor, working nonstop to pay for her care and delivering food all day and night. But one day, she nearly died from hemorrhaging after trying to abort a pregnancy. That’s when I learned the child she was carrying belonged to my boyfriend. When I confronted him, he didn’t even flinch. Instead, he dragged me to the operating table himself. “You were born to be her blood bank. Dying for her? It’s the best thing you’ll ever do.” I was left there, bleeding out, my life slipping away with every drop. But as death closed in, something changed. The people who once hoped I’d disappear—the ones who used me, betrayed me—they all began to unravel, losing their insanity.

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

Snow was determined to break the mould. She was going to be the first woman in her long family line not to join The Academy and become a Vampire Hunter. She was set on this ever since she could speak. But when her mother is killed by a Vampire when Snow is only 12 years old, everything changes. Snow is renowned in the Hunting world,. She's only 28 years old and her kill count is one of the highest they have ever seen. Little do they know the only kill count they have access to is the contracted kill counts that are recorded. She's almost double that number of un-contracted kills. Revenge is the only thing she ever thinks about, and who can blame her? Her next kill is Damien… Mr. Edge Enterprises. He's a high priority kill with a 3 million dollar payout. Something is different about him though, something Snow can't quite place. Killing him would prove to be a lot more difficult than she expected. There is much she doesn't know when it comes to Damien… And even more that he isn't telling her. To make things worse, she finds out that The Academy is harboring a multitude of secrets… Snow has to make an inherently difficult choice. Will she choose the man she barely knows, and is supposed to have already killed? Or will she choose The Academy? The place who took her in after her moms death, and taught her everything she's ever known? Follow us as we traverse the mind of a woman scorned. Who's hellbent on revenge while she tries to justify the feelings she shouldn't have, for the man who she should have already killed. Rating 18+ for language, violence, and graphic sexual content.