Light Of Death Note Novels & Stories

he explains to me and I laugh. Carefully, Light gets into the balcony and looks for a place to capture their picture. I notice him clicking some photos and to be honest, I don't want to see them. There is a devilish smirk on his face when he returns. “Your bitch and her dog was so busy in fucking themselve that they did not realised i shoot them pictures.” “That doesn’t sound good to hear!” I press my lips in a flat line. “Have a look!” He passed me the camera.

She bolted over, calling out, "M-Ms. Brown!" Fidgeting with her clothes, my mother whispered, "Do you remember me? I'm Yocelyn's mother. The corneas—you got them from her..." Amelia just brushed my mother's hand aside and shoved her. My death certificate fluttered to the ground with a soft sound. Without a word, Amelia stomped on it, sneering, "Get lost, you lunatic! I don't know you..." My mother's eyes went wide with shock, and she dove for Amelia's leg, yelling, "Don't touch that!"

It was almost as if it was a time line as we walked down the hall. I saw a sword. Many different people held the sword as we walked. Sometimes it was a person outlined in black light, which was strange to see black light. It was not like the UV purple light that they called black light in the clubs. This was inky dark light. Almost like paint, but reflected as light. My physics brain couldn't wrap itself around the concept, and yet here it was right in front of me.

CULLEN’s POV The rain poured heavily. The dark clouds loomed above, seething with fury. I sipped my bittersweet coffee as the Death Note on my desk began to glow faintly. I reached out and took it in my hand. An unfamiliar name appeared, along with the details of death. “Clark Stephen Daniel,” I muttered with a sigh. “Your time has come. I’m coming to collect,” I whispered, my voice void of warmth. It was time to reap his soul. The details were clear—he would die tonight, inside a nightclub.

Kira’s body rose another foot into the air, her arms thrown out wide, her chest heaving as if she were drawing in the collective breath of the entire population. For one final, terrifying heartbeat, the light became so absolute that the entire room turned pure, uniform white. I couldn't see the servers. I couldn't see Elias's corpse. I couldn't even see my own hands. There was only her, a blinding star burning in the center of a concrete tomb. Then, with the sharp, violent snap of a breaking rubber band, the light vanished. The sudden darkness was total. The hum of the servers died instantly as the main breakers blew, plunging the entire room into blackness, save for the faint orange embers

I shouted. I didn't sit in the chair. I picked up the shard of the broken glass console. I didn't use the silver pen. I didn't use my blood. I looked at the Master-Chair—the heart of the Aethel-Group’s power. "I'm not the hero," I said. "And I'm not the goddess." I stabbed the glass shard into the **Center of the Light**. --- ### The Darkest Chapter The explosion wasn't made of fire. It was made of **Ink**.

She chanted. "Agite Tenebrae Abyssi" Perfectly utter the tone and words without fault. Neon blue light traces the lines and symbols illuminating the transmutation circle as flashes of lightning draws from the ground and onto the six points of the pentagram that dances erratically from his command together with the whispering taboo and warning off. ‘DEATH’

But as I looked around the room, none of them looked at me with fear their eyes all lit up with hope and gratitude. My gaze drifted to a young man lying on a stretcher, his eyes meeting mine with an expression of gratitude, not fear. Slowly, I made my way over to him. “Thank you, Luna of Death,” he whispered, his voice a soft melody over the quiet murmur in the hall. “For this gift—I will remember you even in the afterlife and be forever in your debt.”

The heavy wooden door opened slowly, revealing a sliver of darkness that widened into the mansion's vast entry hall. My heart hammered against my ribs. Caden stood there, looking impossibly calm. He wore dark pants and a loose white shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing strong forearms. His eyes, dark and sharp, met mine, and a slow, unsettling smile spread across his face. "Right on time, Maeve," he said, his voice a low rumble that filled the huge, echoing space. "Come in. Don't be shy."

We didn't let the darkness win. END OF VOLUME ONE