Life And Death Book Novels & Stories

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

Thea closed her eyes. “Dare I ask what your purpose is?” “My purpose is to create life in more forms than you, even as gods, can fathom,” Life said. “And mine is to refine it,” Death added. “That’s why you helped us defeat Lilith?” “Your terms good and evil are simplistic, naïve, and reductive, but with your current ability of understanding, I will use them. Evil wants to stifle and destroy life. Good wants to keep it going. We’ll keep the good influences around over the evil for now. Sometimes destructive forces are useful. You already understand that, though.”

“No one makes a single move. Don’t even breathe loudly. They still have their perfect hunting senses and if it found us, we are as good as dead.” Cain and Daniel frowned but nodded and I almost sighed in relief. I think this was their first time to encounter them, but of course, this won’t be that easy. The asshole beta growled, and a roar answered him. The sick, infected dragon has found us and we all are going to die.

Shades of the black night gradually appeared in lustre as the door glided slowly, revealing what the kingdom hid beyond. On the ground of the Rizolir, each one, there had a story to tell. Whether we believed it or not, everyone - from protectors to guards- had unspoken diaries of what their life was like before stepping into Rizolir. And I wasn't an exception.

Thoughts I've been having since my childhood start clouding my head. Will anyone cry if I die? I don't know and I don't wanna know when deep down I know the answer. It's true that Henna and Anthony adopted me, they gave me everything I ever needed, they gave me things I never knew I needed, and they treat me just like they treat their son ever since but I know it's out of sympathy, not love. I'm not afraid to die but I'm afraid to live with a constant fear of what will happen when I will take my last breath.

But just as quickly, I shook my head. "There's no need. Let me go, and spare yourself too." Once I had the divorce certificate in hand, I exhaled a deep breath of relief. From here on out, it was a brand-new life.

He reads it the way he reads titles: not the words but the weight. "The first life," he says. "What the practice earned and what the practice cost." "Both," he says. "Both," she confirms. "The first three books were about the earning. The fourth is the first to say directly that there was also a cost. Not a regret — a cost. The first life was a full life. The cost of the second life is knowing what the first life could have been, which is knowledge you cannot unknow." "Is that a cost or a gift?"

It began with total weakness, led to muscle atrophy and the loss of self-care, and ended in a death devoid of dignity. "I'm fine. I just used you as a shield again," I replied. After five years of daily contact, Zayne was more than just my doctor. He was also my friend. Zayne smiled helplessly. "You've used me as an excuse often enough. I'd rather it be more than that to you." As he spoke, he lifted me into the wheelchair and carefully tucked the blanket around me. I remained still without saying a word, pretending not to understand the implication behind his words.

I closed my eyes, trembling as tears escaped and fell into the food. "Happy birthday, Eleanor Shaw," I whispered to myself. "Keep moving forward—onward forever. Even if no one loves you, there's still light at the end of the tunnel. As Jeffrey said, you have enjoyed over 20 wonderful years of wealth and privilege. You've had it good." Just like that, I repeated words of comfort to myself as I wiped away my tears. I moved all my belongings that I had sorted out over the past two weeks in the living room.

Henry was tortured so badly that he was almost unrecognizable, but the date stamp showed it wasn't from this year. "According to the criminal's statement, Henry was near death in the second year after they fled to Northern Myralis. So Joanna sold his organs, one by one," the officer explained. Henry was dead. He probably never understood why Joanna, the woman he once loved and trusted, had done this to him. But I did. I had once stumbled upon Dad's old notebook. I learned from it that the case back then had an anonymous tipster. This person provided a ton of key info just to bring down their competitor.