Nick Clark Death Novels & Stories

After a thorough investigation by the production team, the details of my past were quickly uncovered. They also confirmed with the relevant authorities that I had, in fact, already passed away. "Three years ago, Nicolas Soros died on a snowy night—frozen to death because he couldn't afford hospitalization. "It wasn't until the autopsy that the coroner discovered that what looked like a thick down jacket… didn't even contain real padding. And that was already the most expensive piece of clothing his mother had ever bought for him. With discounts, it cost less than five dollars.

In Charles's eyes, I was never going to measure up to Arianna. Arianna, despite her guilt, looked at Charles with teary-eyed gratitude. Even now, he stood up for her. Vincent's gaze shifted toward Charles, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly in a mocking smile. "Move aside." Just then, the official reporters Vincent had invited arrived, with cameras poised to capture every moment. Vincent pulled out a document—my death report. "Sabrina Zayn passed away one week ago. The cause of death—" He paused deliberately, his eyes flickering ever so subtly in my direction.

VICTORIA I didn’t feel my hands for a moment. They just sat on my lap while I stared at the screen like it wasn’t real. Daniel Rhodes was alive walking somewhere in the world, breathing and wearing the same symbol that showed up in my Paris dressing room. It made no sense. My mind tried to grab onto something steady, but nothing stayed still long enough. Clark cursed under his breath the second he saw the photo. His voice came out sounding very hard like even he couldn’t believe it. “He’s been dead for almost ten years,” he said.

That was the start of their agony. The birth of Chad wasn't known by Clark's family then, as Kristina decided not to fight for her child anymore. It was declared at that time also that Clark encountered a vehicular accident leading to his sudden death. Clark saw his younger version when he saw how Chad played basketball with him. He had his moves and looks. He smiled while looking at his son. He is so proud of having Chad as his successor and benefactor of all his assets and properties. Three months passed by and Clark's body started to deteriorate.

Patrick climbed the platform, grabbing the microphone like it could anchor him. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice strained, "I have organized this long-delayed funeral to address the rumors circulating online. Here, today, are the crematorium staff who handled Clarence's remains, the doctor who confirmed her passing, and the nurse who transported her to the morgue." Sophia escorted them in. They presented their licenses. The screens behind them lit up with credentials, IDs. "Clarence is dead," Patrick declared. "And these individuals can confirm that."

They lay there in the growing darkness, Lauren's eyes open, Wyatt's arms around her, both of them pretending she'd be able to sleep. Around midnight, Lauren's phone rang. It was Clark's number. Wyatt answered it, put it on speaker. "This is Wyatt." "Is Lauren there?" "I'm here," Lauren said, her voice hoarse. Clark's voice was gentle. "I wanted to call you myself. Before you heard it on the news. Liam Carr died in surgery twenty minutes ago. I'm sorry you had to go through this, Lauren. But it's over now. He can't hurt you or anyone else anymore."

I'm back. Many people could be seen in the square. Even after the advertisement ended, they were still staring at the big screen. Nathan Clemon was a man whose name was often associated with the word 'regret'. He was the man who died three years ago for a well known reason. Even though he had been gone for three years, nobody could break the records set by him. He represented an era and he was a myth. But now, the man had silently made a return without any warning.

“Isn't she? What do you actually know about her, Theo? What do any of us know?” --- Three hundred miles away in Utica, Harold Clarksville sat in his study, the morning news playing on the wall-mounted television. He wasn't really watching, just staring at the stack of medical bills on his desk. “Sir?” The oldest maid, Mrs. Vera, knocked on the door. “Your breakfast is ready.” “Not hungry.” “Sir, you need to eat something. You've lost so much weight.” Harold waved her away. “Later.” The news anchor's voice cut through his thoughts: "Breaking news this morning. Jezza Clarksville, heiress to the Phantom Tech fortune, has died at age twenty-three after a prolonged battle with her struggling for

At that time I realized that the silence of loneliness was sad and suffocating. On the other hand, I can’t help but blame myself for what happened. However, I know more than anyone else that if I don’t fetch his soul someone else will do it. Death is not something that a person or anyone in the world has control over especially if a person’s death is predestined and written. I learned CSA killed Mr Perelman or Central Sleep Apnea a condition wherein a person pauses in breathing due to a lack of respiratory effort during sleep. That’s the thing Hazel explained to us when we last got together after the funeral.

If only he could understand that she had to do this. "Derek I know you think I'm being fooled by Nick." She mumbled. "And maybe you're right. But I've got to know. Wouldn't you want me to reunite with the only family I have?" Before Derek could reply, his cellphone rang. The caller ID read S. A. Perkins and he answered the call swiftly. "Tell me you have some good news." He said into the receiver. "Yes Mr. Donovan." Perkins answered from the other end. "You were right. Gregory Rosenberg died three years ago. Though the news says he died of a heart attack, my sources confirmed that Nick Sinclair was the cause of his death."