Never Die Extra Novels & Stories

Bang. A bullet pierced my skull in midair. [Seventh loop over. Player has died.]

"There's no one in this world who wants him dead more than I do." Everett went still.

The morgue was cold, carrying a foul, sterile smell. Expressionless staff pushed me into a metal drawer. With a soft "click," the door closed. The system's voice echoed in my mind. [Death confirmed. Final storyline completed.] [Countdown to soul departure: 71 hours 59 minutes.] [Please await the opening of the passage.] I drifted in the cold, hollow air and let out a breath. Finally, things were coming to an end.

“To which?” Maya manages the smallest, worst smile. “Both.” Denise closes her eyes for one second. When she opens them, she is not comforted. She is recalculating. “Right,” she says. A clean cut. Outside, laughter rises near the wash station. Then Aaron’s voice, too bright: “Dead once, leads twice.” A few people laugh. Someone repeats it. Dead once, leads twice. Oh, hell. Maya is out the curtain before Pete can stop her.

It was William, the Alpha from the Ice Plains Pack, standing behind me. His voice was filled with sorrow, "When you sent him to the Ice Plains, I knew he died painfully. But I didn’t expect... A ten-year-old cub, betrayed by his pack, mauled by lone wolves, abandoned by his father... and forced to watch himself bleed to death." Andrew's final memories were of waiting for death. Even if I had reached him in time, I wouldn’t have been able to save him because the only crystal healing chamber had been taken over by Lucas.

My voice failed me there, and I didn’t know how to go on. As I spoke, Rachel reached out to me, touching my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Serena, we will try our best. But the spirit of Gloria is different, it is something that we have never come across before. I mean you saw her die yet after all these years she still manages to live on.”

Forever. -------------------------------------------END----------------------------------------------------------------------

Life couldn't be any better. THE END

The last image before I could remember was Winston signing the agreement to donate his remains. Then he was lying in our home, calmly making his last phone call. "Hello, I'm dying. You can come now." With that, he cut his wrist. "Aryanna, I'm coming for you." But I turned around and went away, not looking at him. Another tiny grave had been added to the high green hill, and that little grave sat at the foot of the hill. We would never meet again.