Romans & histoires Left 4 Dead Art

" I wondered who it was that had used my phone to send these messages after I died. I tried my best to recall what happened after I entered the basement. However, I could not remember anything else other than the sound of something heavy dropping onto the floor. The lights in the basement were kept on for the next few days. Layla was focused on carving a plaster head using a carving knife. She traced the eye on the head carefully with the sharp tip of the knife. The facial features on the plaster head felt so familiar that it made Layla pause. Her hands trembled slightly. Philip walked over to her and gave her a nod of approval. He pointed to the sculpture of a human figure standing in a cor

I understood then. The people I cherished most were the ones who wanted me dead. I could only hope that once they got their wish, they would live to regret it when they finally learned the truth. In my final moments, as the Rogue's claws tore open my chest, the force of the blow tore my spirit from my body. I floated in the air, watching my own mutilated body lie on the forest floor, bathed in moonlight. At that moment, my Alpha and fated mate, Damon, was kneeling beside my sister, Chloe.

Her body convulsed once, twice, then exploded into dust. Gone. Just like that. The sound that came out of me wasn’t even human. I slapped my hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut, but it didn’t matter. The image burned behind my eyelids—her vanishing mid-step, her clothes disintegrating before they even hit the ground. The Game Master chuckled. “Precision, my dears,” it let out. “Precision is everything.” The next name flickered. “Number 0449.” A man this time. Big, broad-shouldered, maybe in his thirties. He muttered something under his breath and stepped up.

I Fiel won the fourth round of the game but only to be shocked to learn that in the fifth round, the chance of surviving can only be one percent out of ten. He was fetched by the same warriors from his room and was brought to the arena for the fifth day and final round of the game. “How hard is this last round of the game?” Fiel murmured to the kind warrior on his right side when they were entering the arena already. The kind warrior glanced at him and murmured back. “None of the players came back alive.”

This was the last day of the two-week deadline of which I was set to be erased. Thinking of how I would never again see my family and friends from the other world, tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. When blood suddenly poured from my mouth, Natalia and the other three rushed over and held me in panic. "Luc, we'll take you to the hospital right now! You're going to be alright!" Just as I gently pushed them away and calmly prepared to face death, several familiar figures came running toward me. It was my mother, my sister, and my friend from my original world.

Dead people don’t… I touched my chest… ba‑dump, ba‑dump… it was there—my heartbeat. So… why is my heart beating like a trapped rabbit if I’m dead? And if I was not, then what was this place? I couldn’t possibly be dead. Could I? [Player 09. Player 013. Reaper 077. Head to the Exit. Bus doors will be open for survived players after dawn.] An old man from seat number 09 stood and waited at the entrance of the door. He didn’t seem scared at all. As if he was used to all of this.

"In your next life, don't love someone this way. And don't make anyone wait." Stepping out of the cemetery, I drew a deep breath, feeling the weight I'd carried for years finally lift. As the car drove away, I watched the city blur past and allowed a small smile to form. This time, I had truly let go.

Chapter 139 FRANK POV Everything went like a flash of light. The man had man who had questioned us was lying died on the floor and I was blocking Artie's sight from seeing the bloody mess his father had caused. “Dude, what the heck is wrong with you?, There Is a kid here remember," I scolded him but he remained adamant cleaning of the blood that stained his hand. “I don't mind seeing bloody things, I kill animals like him too," Artie said and I stared at him in surprise.

The fire died, my hands were raw, and she still said it wasn't right. Draven called it Atonement for Rosa's pain. Now Rosa was back, Marco belonged to her, and The System had finally opened the last door. Death. Draven snapped his fingers. Two button men hauled me up by my arms, my toes barely touching the concrete. His eyes flicked to the gun lying across the concrete, a mocking smirk tugging at his mouth. "That desperate for attention? Practicing your grand finale? Shame no one was here to watch your little show in this shithole."

“That was only going to kill him. Maybe parts of you, but only small parts. Tiny little parts that would have also rejoiced in the bloodshed. Sure, Sweet Marie would have died, but Bloodthirsty Marie would have been born. And it would have been something . . . desirable. Something you wanted. Like putting your jaws to a bleeding throat. But this? This will kill all of you. It will kill your soul.” “I don’t care about my soul. I want to know if it will work.” “Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.” If he carried storms in his eyes, she carried desolation in hers. “Don’t you understand that I’m already dead?” “Marie.” “What else can be taken from me? You tell me that. What else can they take?” Lyle