Man Dying Novels & Stories

" It makes sense for the door to close. I was mistaken in thinking it was so Jade, Finn, and Harley could fight without being noticed. It was to allow us space to mourn. Because he's come to inform us that Dan has died. I see a gleeful Dan lying motionless in a too-bright operating room, his complexion whitish-blue, his chest sliced open, and bloody instruments on a bloody metal tray. Dead. I sway. Jade hasn't moved until I'm sitting on his lap in a chair, his palm cupping the back of my head and his kisses on my brow. "I have you, angel." Finn is standing near the wall where the poster used to hang, but he isn't looking at me. Harley had his whole attention and then some.

"They contacted the emergency number our investigation team had recorded before we withdrew surveillance. That man... Charlie Vane... suffered complete organ failure caused by severe hypothermia. He was officially pronounced dead at exactly one o'clock this morning." Elena's fingers, resting lightly on the tablet screen, froze instantly. Her heartbeat seemed to skip a beat, leaving behind an emptiness that spread through her chest without warning. The man was truly gone. The ruthless ruler of Capital, the husband who had ignored her tears, and the worn-out man who had knelt beneath the rain at the docks of City-B had now become nothing more than a single name on an unidentified immigrant's d

"Not the version for the court. The one you would tell me if it were just us." It is just us. It is always just us when the door closes. The truth is that I died. I bled out on the ballroom floor of my own home three years into a marriage I believed was love, and the man who put the blade in me was the one I was about to name this morning. The truth is that something in the darkness heard me asking and sent me back, and I woke up in this bedroom with every memory intact and forty minutes before the ceremony. I cannot tell him that.

"Why didn't you take care of their last affairs when they passed back then?" She was stunned. "What did you just say?" "They're dead. Both of them." He waved at her dismissively as he continued blandly, "After what happened to his son, Chance passed away on the spot. His wife didn't last more than a few days afterward. "Everyone in the neighborhood helped with the funerals. Their ashes are still stored in the crematorium, uncollected." I watched as Yuna abruptly clenched her fingers around her phone. Her knuckles were stark white.

she stammered. I stepped into the ward, where Brandon lay under a stark white sheet. Melissa moved to block me, murmuring some excuse about sparing me the pain. However, I was not having any of it. I gently nudged Melissa to the side and drew back the sheet from Brandon's body. There he was, lying on the hospital bed, his cheeks flushed and his face peaceful—hardly the image of a dead man. I shook him and called his name, but he would not stir. Something was off. Without hesitation, I dialed the crematorium. "Hello. My husband has passed, and I need to arrange for his cremation immediately."

Time passed, and Nathan received a message from my phone. During the accident, my phone flew out of my hand, and the screen broke. I figured the police had gotten someone to fix my phone and contact my family right away. [Is this Moon Clinton’s brother? I’m very sorry to inform you that Moon died in a car accident. Please come to the police station to identify the body.] Nathan slowly opened his eyes. He became visibly disgusted just from looking at the message. He seemed upset as he replied. [Moon, I don’t have time for your games. If you can come home, do it. Don’t expect me to pick you up!]

he places his hand on his chest, feigning confidence. "Conceded much?" I ask him boldly, cutting his sentence off and leaving my fear in the dust. He chuckles deeply causing my heart to clench, uncomfortably. My father is dead in front of me, a bullet wound to his head and here I am, laughing with a strange, 7-foot man who shouldn't be in my house. "Well baby, I'm death, nice to meet you," I know it was dumb, but I broke into laughter. "Yeah, and I'm Demeter now get out before I call the cops," I glance back over at my father as he lies in a pool of his blood.

A heart monitor beeped with an irregular rhythm in the background, signaling that his body was rapidly shutting down. “He is fading fast, Prez.” Doc warned as he stepped back to give me room. "His lung is collapsing. You have maybe two minutes before he drowns in his own blood." I didn't care. I marched up to the table and leaned over the dying man, placing my hands on the cold metal on either side of his head. His eyelids fluttered open. They were wide, bloodshot, and consumed by the primal terror of a man staring directly into the abyss.

He dialed the only number he could bear to call. “Dryann Flames,” came his uncle’s gruff voice. “You don’t call unless it’s important. Which hunting ground are you now?” Dryann opened his mouth, but the words refused to come. He couldn’t shape them. Couldn’t believe them. His throat burned. “Dryann? Are you okay?” His uncle’s tone shifted, worried now. “Talk to me, son—” “Dan’s no more.” The words shattered out of him, breaking his voice. “He’s dead.”

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.