My End Novels & Stories

Next, some liquid splashed down, and her bones shattered, then slowly dissolved into a puddle of water. The water evaporated under intense heat, leaving behind nothing but an empty and spotless surface. The video stopped. On the darkened screen, Jason saw his own bloodshot eyes staring back. “She... really left me with nothing...” His voice was a broken mix of laughter and tears. He sounded deranged, as though he had lost his mind. Eric, who was standing nearby, could not bear it anymore and stepped forward. “Mr. Fender...” The man with glasses spoke softly. “Our deepest condolences.”

While Damien was out, I went to a small store on the outskirts of town and purchased two large bags of charcoal. The shopkeeper, a kindly old man, reminded me, "Miss, remember to open the windows for ventilation if you're using charcoal to keep warm." I smiled faintly and said nothing. Once Ricky's funeral was over, I planned to end my life by burning charcoal and leave this world for good. Just as I hid the bags of charcoal under the bed, I blacked out. When I came to, all I saw was the stark white ceiling of a hospital room. Damien sat at my bedside, gripping my hand tightly. His eyes were filled with despair and sorrow.

This is it. This is how my story ends—not with romance, not with adventure—but with deportation and unpaid cleaning fees. I forced a shaky smile. “Uh… would a membership card from Target count?”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . THE END...?

I knew he was hurting, but had I not suffered just as much? Though my name had been cleared, it was far too late. With red-rimmed eyes, I grabbed my shopping basket and headed out the door. Before leaving, I placed the USB drive on the table. “I hope that by the time I return, you’ll be gone.” … When I came back from the market, the old house was empty. The USB drive had disappeared, and so had Lucas. A wave of relief washed over me.

On their third anniversary, Adonis Kent suddenly announced that he was going to be single again. "Let’s break up." Claire Monroe was stunned. Before she could even wrap her head around what was happening, she was handed a "girlfriend evaluation form". Adonis's secretary, Bonnie Spencer, wore a mocking expression when she said, "Claire, you failed to score ninety points this year. Adonis has a rule of dating women who only scored above ninety. "Anything below that benchmark eliminates you as a suitable girlfriend candidate. "He will be breaking up with you today." Claire felt the tips of her fingers turn cold when she stared at the evaluation form. It was public knowledge that Adonis,

Damian made a habit of letting everyone wait for him. Including me. I waited at the restaurant until every last guest had gone, and only then did he show up in the doorway. Our wedding anniversary. He dragged it out until past midnight before he finally came home with a gift. Even at my mother's funeral, he didn't arrive until after the priest had finished the eulogy. I asked him why. He said he was used to it. He said his line of work was all about making people lose track of time. After all, he was a Don. The casinos under his name didn't have a single clock on the walls. It wasn't until I was hospitalized after a car accident that cost me my early pregnancy that I called him, enduring the

"Different. Like it's... waiting for something." "The six months." She propped herself on one elbow, violet eyes catching the streetlight filtering through gauze curtains. The stone in her chest glowed soft gold now, no longer the violent pulse of new bonding but something steadier. A pilot light. "Dr. Aris said we have six months to make it permanent. What happens if we don't?" "I turn feral. You burn out. The consciousness dies." He said it flatly, the way he'd recite quarterly earnings. Numbers on a spreadsheet. "Standard Vane family expiration date."

And now, I was done believing him. The silence stretched on, and the man on the phone asked again. I steadied myself and answered calmly. "Yes. I accept." We exchanged a few more words, settled on a start date, and I hung up. Then I hailed a cab and went home. I pushed open the front door and went straight upstairs to pack. I was moving out. If I was going to end things, there was no point dragging it out. Packing did not take long. Looking down at the worn-out clothes and pants so faded they had turned white, it hit me just how lean these years had really been.

A sharp pain stabbed through my abdomen, and I began frantically thrashing my body. “No… No! Don’t touch my baby! Elijah, I’ll donate my bone marrow! I’ll sign the consent form! I’ll even agree to the divorce! This is your child, too! Elijah, I beg both of you, just let me go! I will never show my face in front of you again!”