Near Death Note Figure Novels & Stories

The air on the back of my neck freezes, and that electrifying shiver down my spine, I can’t miss it for anything in this world. Just as the darkness begins to swallow the edges of my vision, a figure fills the door, a figure that’s supposed to bring fear but ends up bringing relief. At least one thing is certain: he’d save me before he kills me. Nevan hasn’t noticed yet that death is standing right behind him, he is oblivious to his surroundings, focusing more on his desperate attempt to take off all my clothes. When he finally notices, Corvin was faster, and he’s already picked off my body, hanging in the air.

Selene’s breath caught as the figure emerged—hooded, cloaked in silver and violet. Agnes stepped forward and whispered, stunned, “That’s not a projection. That’s a person.” The figure removed their hood. It was a boy. No older than seventeen, eyes like sunlit obsidian, with hair the color of burnt snow. He bore the same crescent birthmark Selene once carried across her ribs. His voice was calm. Controlled. “She’s not the only one they buried,” he said. Selene stared, struggling to breathe. “Who are you?”

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

They even saw the picture on the dark web. The headless corpse in front of their car was indeed Pufferfish. "Nonsense. His body is hundreds of miles away from us. How could it show up here?" The driver stepped out of the car to examine the body. The body had been dead for quite some time. There was a dragon tattoo on the arm. Tears began streaming down the driver's face. "Boss, this is Mr. Pufferfish. I was there when he got this tattoo." Golden Shark felt a chill when he looked at the corpse. He quickly stopped fooling around with the woman and pulled up his pants.

His entire body felt tense, on high alert for whatever was coming next. The figure’s voice broke the heavy silence, steady and low, devoid of any warmth. “This isn’t just any note,” they said softly but with undeniable authority. “This is a will.” Thomas’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “A... a will?” he managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and strained. The words sounded foreign, almost surreal in the cold night air. “What do you mean? Whose?” The figure’s eyes glinted beneath the shadow of their hood. “Yours,” they replied simply.

"The Figure. Direct access. Unmediated. I will bring it to my side, reconnect it to the shadow substrate, and use its foundational energy to arrest the collapse." "If you take the Figure to the mirror universe, our foundation degrades." "Slowly. Over millennia. My people die in hours." Mirror Jack's voice cracked, and through the crack, Jack heard something he had not expected. Grief. Real, human, devastating grief. "I watched six billion of my people burn when the Figure emerged. Six billion, Sterling. Do you know what that sounds like? It sounds like nothing. Because shadows do not scream." The command center went silent. Even Aaliyah's perpetual keyboard clatter stopped.

No one expected it. He's move was silent like the air. His presence was like a shadow, unnoticeable. He's aura was extremely dark and intimidating. Like an experience killer. This person is standing firmly, holding both Nikka and Yui in both of his arms. Nikka was dumbfounded looking at him. She couldn't believe what just had happened. Just at the same time the underground shakes. Debris falls from above. In the center of the hole, up in the ceiling a person jump off. It was Zitrey.

But as we drove away, neither of us noticed the figure watching from the shadows, a sinister smile playing on his lips. ***** The following morning, a package arrived at my doorstep. Inside was a photograph of my mother, dated just a week ago, with a note: “She’s alive. But not for long.” The photograph in my trembling hands was dated just a week ago. My mother, whom I had believed dead for years, stared back at me, her eyes filled with a haunting mix of sorrow and resilience. The accompanying note was chilling: “She’s alive. But not for long.” Dominic stood beside me, his jaw clenched as he read the note over my shoulder.

"It's been five years now and Aito is dead but the hold he has on Ryu's heart is too strong. You know, I used to think that I was unlucky but after I saw you, after seeing what he did to you, I think I'm better off without him." "W-What are you saying?" Aito asked, confused. Why would Noti have that picture? Why was the person in the picture the same as him in his past? In his memories? Why was he saying all that weird stuff? How could he have been dead for five years? He was just in a coma. A coma! "You still don't realise it?" Nori sneered. "You look exactly like that Aito he loves. How much did he pay you to go through the surgery huh? What did he promise you? Marriage?"

“You look like you saw an actual demon.” “Close enough,” I rasp. “He’s alive.” “Who is?” she asks, then her brain catches up. “No. No way. Don’t tell me—” “Dante,” I say. The syllables feel like glass in my mouth. Her fingers clamp around my forearms. “The Dante? Rooftop‑wine Dante? Slept‑on‑a‑mattress‑on‑the‑floor Dante?” “The one who left a note and ‘died in a fire’ Dante,” I say. I almost laugh; it comes out like a choke. “Apparently rumors of his death were greatly exaggerated.”