New World Death Mote Novels & Stories

Yeah everything looks all pristine and innocent during the day, but night time around the packhouse can be pretty fucking terrifying. And I’m the reaper himself. I have fourteen dead flies on my legs. Insects, yes, and definitely not sexy looking. But symbols of the males that tried to take me down and fuckin’ failed. But I know better than anyone, even my wolf… Flyers don’t live forever. We do our part to make this world a better place and try to leave it for those after us to prosper. Doze shakes his head and before he speaks, I already know why he’s pissed.

Death was a tall 6'5", slim man with mostly pale skin. His arms, like his legs, were pitch black. His hair was long, about shoulder length, and almost as dark as his limbs. Death was wearing a dark purple robe that went down to the top of his shins with a hood on the back. The sleeves were long enough to cover his lanky arms. His office was a simple room, about eight-hundred square feet, with grey walls. There was a desk and a plaque behind the desk that reads "Memento Mori" Death didn't care for the plaque and often saw it as kind of a joke. He was given it as a gift though, so he kept it hung up at all times, hoping his new recruits wouldn't notice.

"[ GoDS MusT ComeBacK ]" "[ThE CounciL MusT RevivE ThE GodS ]" "[ TheY ArE Us! TheY MusT ExisT ]" "[We OF ThE CounciL, MusT SavE The GodS]" "[We MusT SavE The OlD GodS]" "[ ThE ArE RottinG, ThE ArE DecayinG ]" "[LeT ME Go! LEt Us GO! ]" "[ PaiN, AgonY, OblivioN, EternitY.... I Want To DiE ]"

He slowly began to wrap them in fresh, stark-white athletic tape, pulling the fabric taut over his bruised knuckles. He was preparing for his second night in the Crucible. For the last twenty-four hours, the Bastion’s mind had been a war zone of conflicting tactical data. Varkas had given him the explanation: the Death Game was not a slaughterhouse, but a quarantine. The 'Wild' men generated too much volatile kinetic mana. The 'Red Rust' infected their minds, turning them into rabid, violent monsters. The only cure was to bleed the kinetic energy out through brutal, physical combat.

A slender root broke through the ash, rising from charred earth like a blade through old flesh. Its leaves shimmered violet-black. Its petals held the sheen of blood laced with oil. Its stamen pulsed faintly in the dusk. Etched beneath it in the dirt, like veins, was a spiral rune. A Deathroot. A plant that should be extinct. A plant that only blooms when something divine returns. “This isn’t possible,” Mourne muttered, crouched beside it. “They were wiped out after the First War. Salted from the earth.” Kael’s hand hovered near his blade.

When our whole family saw the death timer for my sister will end on her sixteenth birthday, she became the most important person in the family. She suddenly took priority in everything, from food to dresses, and even bedtime stories. I felt for her, but I was also jealous that she was given everything. However, a day before her sixteenth birthday, my parents locked me up in the storeroom in fear that I would make a mess of things. I kept hammering the door, crying, "Mom, let me out! I'm having a fever, and my head hurts!" Mom didn't believe me. "Just stop! Your sister will die in just a day, and you're playing sick to gain our sympathy?! Don't you understand anything?!" "No…" I tried m

She has a death tag too like mine. “No,” I whispered when I saw my best friend lying dead. There’s a possibility that my mom is not joking with me but I still need to find Jayvee to witness it with my own eyes. I need to see him before believing that he is really gone. I keep on walking while my mom keeps on following me. With the blanket that is covering my body. I don’t care as long as I will find Jayvee and see with my bare naked eyes that he is already dead. Otherwise, I will not believe what my mom told me. People inside the morgue are looking at me and they start murmuring. I know they are surprised because I came back from death like Lazarus and now I am walking in front of them but t

I’ll be coming for him tomorrow Jason can have another day off. As we are wiping down the mat I notice a group of men deep in discussion still hanging about, scars trail up their arms to their shirt sleeves. A handful even have them on their faces. They must be Blood Moon pack warriors. No one else has warriors that tall, large, and ruthless. Dad clears his throat and I get back to our task at hand and help him carry the mat inside. Once put away we head home. I wave goodbye to Hudson and Bailey and walk with dad.

I can tell by the way he’s looking at me, and how his embrace tightens around my waist that I’ve just unknowing killed my own mother by choosing the mate I wanted. My eighteenth birthday had started off brightly waking up within Westley’s arms. But it ended morbidly with West’s father being killed, and mother dying after I was marked by my chosen mate. True to his word before the days end William really did take care of the other two traitors on the elder council leaving three spots open one of which he gave to my “loyal” father. The other two spots went to Luna Lily and Beta Andy’s father Alexander, both of whom are furiously loyal to the both Alpha Keen’s.

We were falling through a tunnel of dark matter. As the darkness consumes the vault, Lyra hears a final, mechanical chime. A screen flickers to life in the void, displaying a world she doesn't recognize a lush, green planet with two moons. A text prompt appears in her mind: "New Game Initialized. Players: 4. Objective: Survival. Warning: The Broker is still among you."