Mary Surratt Last Words Novels & Stories

Of was it the contract? She opened it and glanced through her eyes widened when she read what was on the paper. It was a paper of a baby's time of Death. What was this doing in Mikhail's room? She blinked, reading the name. "Victoria Mikhail Mazza. Date: 10/05. Time of Death; 17:05. Status: Unborn. Reason: Cut in-between a surgery time with mother's injury. Decision by father." What was this? What did this mean? This was the very same day she was shot and this was close to the time the had gone to that beach... what did it mean?

He’d sneak pictures of me as I rode by, loudly praise my form, and point out the sunrise with some cheesy romantic line. One of the stable hands played along. "Mr. Moretti, you spoil the Mrs. rotten. Enough to make a man jealous!" I said nothing. Then his phone rang. A special ringtone. "Sorry, baby. Gotta take this. Urgent family business." He gave me a quick peck on the forehead and trotted his horse to the other end of the paddock. I quietly slipped back to the car, where Dante kept his burner phone. The screen was lit up with a synced chat between him and "Kitten."

Almyra's POV, Kitara sighed in defeat. "It won't be long before you die anyway,' she said with a wave of her hand. "You fucking ate your last food." "I would surely scream in joy and happiness in the cell since I know you are no longer breathing." "Did you really–" "You should keep your last words for whoever you wanna say it to because I'm not even listening one bit," she interrupted me rudely and smirked in a dirty way.

The night before our SAT, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Suddenly, my phone screen lit up. I received a text from an unknown number. [Tomorrow at 6:30 a.m.. Leaving for the testing center. Your sister disappears.] I stared at the screen, my heart jolting. I did have a twin sister, Molly Young, and we were both scheduled to take the test the next day. But what a pathetic prank. I tossed my phone aside, turned over, and went back to sleep. The next morning, we had barely left the driveway when Molly suddenly cried out beside me. “Oh no, I forgot my admission ticket.” “Dad, pull over! I need to go back and get it.”

“…do you know the last thing I said to you after you gave me the poison?” “How could I possibly know!” “I said I was thankful.” Patricia’s eyes widened. “What?” “I felt thankful since I was able to die on my own in this place rather than going through the shame of being executed in front of a large crowd. Of course, you didn’t quite say it that way, but in any case, you gave me a choice and I was truly grateful for it. I also thought that you didn’t wish for my dead to be an amusement for a large crowd.”

“By dawn tomorrow, place your hands on your face—you’ll have a new one. With it, you can move freely… and seek your revenge. I won’t make it till nightfall, dear. Make sure you bury me in the backyard by then.” Tears slid down my cheeks. The last time I’d felt pain like this was when I watched my family die. “Cough… cough…” Serah doubled over, blood spilling from her lips. Her body shook as the coughing grew worse. I stood, unsure of what to do. “I’ll get help!” I was halfway to the door when her faint voice stopped me. “No… there’s no need. I’m glad I could meet you… and tell you the truth.” She held my hand lightly, her grip already weakening.

But Agent Miller shot that idea down. "Victoria was under 24-hour surveillance." "We've reviewed the tapes repeatedly. Victoria didn't open her eyes once in five years. There's no way she could have done this herself!" I walked up to a weeping woman. "Want to know how he died?" "Antonio. He cried before he died, begged for his life. Said he had a newborn daughter and pleaded for me to spare him." "A soldier who swore an oath to the family, and in his last moments, he was thinking about diapers and formula, not honor."

I could hear the urgency in his voice. Matthew straightened, “What did you find?” “Someone got there before us,” Antonio said after a brief moment of silence. The call ended and seconds later, his phone vibrated. A photograph appeared and without speaking he turned it toward me. It was an abandoned property, and written across the wall in fresh red paint were four words: SHE SHOULD HAVE DIED. I was terrified, because I knew that message was meant for me.

One by one, the assembled family heads stepped forward from the circle, each holding a blade drawn from beneath their coats, each delivering a single, deliberate, measured strike as Maxim was held firmly in place by the guards, his desperate protests dissolving quickly into ragged screams that echoed off the high metal rafters. With every thrust, the life drained from his eyes more and more. Sergei was the last to step forward. He crouched slightly, meeting Maxim's glassy, pain-filled eyes directly, close enough now to see every ounce of terror and disbelief still swimming there. "I did tell you what happens to a rat in Russia, didn't I?" Sergei said, his voice low, almost gentle in its fina

The physician replied calmly. “There’s no possibility to bring her back to life?” Elliot questioned, demanding answers immediately. The physician placed his ears on Rita’s chest, after some moment, he stood up, and walked towards Elliot, “She died, even before I got here.” The physician replied. Elliot fell down, as tears dropped down his cheeks. “No, No, No, that was Lady Hazel’s favorite maid, please do something.” Elliot said, as he stood up, and held the physician’s hand.