Nearly Headless Nick Deathday Party Novels & Stories

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.

Marcellus reviled irately, his heart thumping fiercely. "Indeed! Indeed, Big Brother Marcellus! I was off-base." The bare man's face was dull. He got up, bowed his body, and withdrew aside. Everybody took out their Death Notices and read cautiously. It was to be sure the 21st. There were as yet a couple of days left. First and foremost, they had essentially overlooked it. They just contemplated regardless of whether it was valid. They had been anxious the entire evening. Be that as it may, what might be said about the 21st? Could they truly pass on then?

In them, Hank faked his demise, absconding with our fortune and dooming the company to bankruptcy. Elena and I endured collector torment. I succumbed to the abyss, ending it all, and Elena crossed paths with Hank, who was back from the dead. I'd assumed, despite ditching me, he'd spare his daughter some mercy. But no. He stood idle as Laura's goons dispatched her, not deigning a glance at her broken form. The visions looped for a fortnight until the fake-death date crystallized in my subconscious. Two months remained. I called my brother home, tasking him with a covert donation: 20 integrated incinerators to various crematoriums.

TORREN Funeral? Rites tailored to fit our budgets? I quickly detached the phone from my ear and pressed the decline button. Scam calls and identity thefts had gotten so much, they were now pretending to be funeral homes? I scoffed, getting out my face towel and wiped the sweat off my forehead. NIKO DIED! The words kept ringing in my head. It was getting too hard for me to get it out of my mind. Did something really happen to Niko or was Eryn just bluffing?

Nick asked me as I drew close to him. “I know, Nick,” I sighed. “I’ll definitely tell him before your announcement.” “Our alpha has stood without a Luna long enough. The pack needs you, before the extended absence of a Luna begins to tell on us all.” “I’ll do it, Nick,” I murmured, rubbing my temples in frustration. I had to do it. D-Day was tomorrow and I wasn’t letting Marc hear about what went down from someone else. Inside, the party continued with full energy. The people moved through the diner, congratulating each other, laughing, and reveling in the double triumph of football and election victory.

Nicholas had left a comment that was now pinned at the top. “We’ll be holding a public party on the Nightshade estate this weekend,” he wrote. “If you’re reading this… you’re invited!” My eyes widened, and I sat up ramrod straight in bed. This weekend… was my birthday.

the assistant whispered, clutching the copy of the death certificate in his shaking hands. Nick didn’t hear him. He had already hung up. Silence filled the room. For the first time in years, he didn’t know what to do. His chest felt hollow, as if someone had carved out a piece of him. He had built his life around Lisa’s existence. Now that she was gone, it felt like a part of him had gone with her. Nick buried himself in work, using it as a distraction while waiting for any word from Lisa. Every few minutes, he glanced at his phone and sent her another message.

First, I was reincarnated in another body, next I narrowly escaped death again, only God knows what lies ahead. The time was 1 pm, but the sun was perhaps grieving a great fighter like Nikki to show up; it almost felt like the Earth was mourning Nikki's death. It cried thunder, and sobbed rain as we got to the venue for the burial. It was a big field where, according to Keto, dead werewolves from Orion's pack were buried. "Are you sure the burial will hold?" I asked, turning to face Keto in the car as the driver slowly parked in the field. "The rain is heavy."

I asked with an arched brow and heard another chuckle coming from the front seat. "It's decided, he is going to be the one to die, so we should start making arrangements for his funeral in advance." Chrysander joked, "Would you like an expensive coffin or any coffin would do, brother?" "Shut up, before I turn you into Bloody Mary, asshole." Nick growled and glared at me, "Yes, your grocery trip. If you had just stayed put in the house and let the staff handle the grocery shopping and everything, you wouldn't have been put in danger today. You just got lucky, Juliet. He could have killed you today at that parking lot."

“That drunken BASTARD! That dirty, drunken BASTARD! The car with no headlights flying down the goddamn highway. That stupid, drunk bastard hit and killed us!” And then Paul let out a primordial scream which rivaled the devil himself! So loud, the birds roosting in the trees, thousands of them flew out of the graveyard! Now every year on Halloween, Paul Butterfield and Ben Eisner repeat the night they died into eternity. “Mikayla, why are you hiding under the blanket? I thought you watched scary stuff all the time?” “Oh Grandpa, that was the scariest story you ever told!” “Well, whatever you do, don’t tell your mom and dad, they’ll have my hide!”