One Thousand Years Of Death Novels & Stories

So I had a plan. Instead of being scared of me possibly dying while I'm there, seeing that both my brothers will go there and everybody… Hmm, hate my guts... I decided to take a leap of faith, take off my blindfold, and after 16 years, look in the mirror and know when and how I'm going to die. But what I saw wasn't pleasant at all.

6 feet 4 or what? "Unlike some stupid people who call deaths of thousands in history, a lie. I do believe in it." Alexandria feels her anger flaring. He was referring to her, this bastar*! " It was not the right time 18 years ago. The Prophesy just started back then. When the time comes,the death of millions is inevitable." "The Prophesy will come true but in due time." Mrs Fernandes nods, looking impressed. To keep aside the book and ask him, curious to know more.

"Twelve lifetimes." She thinks about the figure at the edge of every death she has ever died and the interpretation she built around it across three years of research and the specific way that interpretation just shifted and what it means that she has been reading his presence as threat when it was the opposite and she has twelve lifetimes of dying in which she could have understood that and didn't. "Open the document," she says. He looks at it on the console between them.

The closest thing to a smile she had seen from him. --- "What happened to her?" The question escaped before Elara could stop herself. Instantly, regret followed. Yet Kael didn't seem offended. Only sad. "She died." The simple answer carried centuries of pain. The fire crackled softly. No other sound followed. After a long silence, Kael continued. "Three hundred years ago." Elara's chest tightened. Three hundred years. For werewolves and vampires, death still hurt. No matter how much time passed. Perhaps some wounds never truly healed.

"You might be worried about that." Rondolf shook his head again. "I am grateful." Thalius frowned. Thalius was astonished by Rondolf's sentence. "I am grateful that Melisam made the decision," Randolf added. "If I die, I will die peacefully." Thalius sighed. "You can't say that, Alpha." "The thousand-year cycle is nearly over, Thalius," Randolf replied. "If you find me in a lifeless condition, it will be natural."

Mila eyed me and said quietly, "Julian wants handmade pottery made for his show next month. Make him a piece in the next couple days." I'd learnt pottery and was basically a master at it, but it would take time and energy. And in the days leading to my forty-sixth death, Milla had me work day and night as a joke. My eyes were damaged while I died at midnight from overworking, and my sight remained poor even after I was revived. The doctor told me not to work, and Mila knew about it—she just didn't care. Still, I turned to smile at Mila tenderly with a look of pure, endless love. "Okay, I will."

One Thousand Years After the War The amphitheater had been built for this specific purpose—to hold the Millennial Council, where representatives from across the known world gathered to commemorate the thousand-year anniversary of the Great War and to hear from the last living witness. Elara stood backstage, preparing herself. At a thousand and thirty-five years old—give or take, she'd stopped counting precisely after the first few centuries—she was the oldest living being in recorded history. Functionally immortal, unchanged from the day of her reconstitution, she'd watched empires rise and fall, technologies evolve beyond recognition, and the coalition she'd helped build transform into some

Now she was a pile of mangled flesh lying in the morgue. I turned and went back inside, locked the door, and slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor. My phone vibrated. "Backup slots are full. In the next cycle, death cannot be transferred." The next day, the sun came up, and the world went on as usual. Except for Unit 703. There was still no movement. I washed my face and looked at myself in the mirror. The scratch at the corner of my eye was still there. It was thin, narrow, and capped with a faint scab.

Midnight Execution… The spell of bones… “I told Eldon not to do anything that would send her over the edge… He said he wouldn’t but as you said he’s not exactly trustworthy.” “Can Death magic even affect Eldon?” Conor asked curiously. I hope so. We should totally get rid of that jerk. “I’ve been told no, but we constantly learn new things all the time about the Death magic. Death magic is not well documented since it only comes around every three hundred years or so. No one has kept a written record of it.” Nathan explained. He looked uncomfortable as Alexander kept crying. Conor looked over to Joanne and Aaron who were trying to soothe him, but he pushed away from them. He’s looking right a

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest frie