Post Mortem Novel Novels & Stories

Four of them total. Three are Silver Hunters, and the fourth ... is Sara Khalek. A gasp flies from my lips, and Davis shifts into his wolf form. "Sara." I rush to her side and feel her cheek. She's cold. She's been dead for many hours, maybe for days. Davis sniffs one of the bodies, his wolf lips curling back. "She put up a good fight." His bass werewolf voice echoes in the small room. I close my eyes against the tears. "Are there any others in here?"

One day she will be the death of me. I climbed higher and checked the area. There was no undead close by or any other travelers. I can’t say if that was good or bad. I sniffed again and now I could tell where the others are. They were busy……….. I cocked my head to the side. Are they having sex? I gagged this was disgusting. Not because they were gay, which I doubt, but because they looked ugly and deformed. Cannibalism can do that to you. Your body won’t be healthy feeding on human flesh, especially one full of diseases and goddess knows what else.

I had never been sick at the scene of a crime, but the first few times I had visited a mortuary the contents of my stomach had fairly quickly nearly been rendered up for examination. Eventually, the body bag was brought into the post-mortem room and the corpse of Vasily Kutziyez was laid out on the autopsy table, beneath the hum and glare of powerful halogen lighting. The room was antiseptic with a stinging aroma of chemicals. Voices were kept muffled, not so much out of respect but from a strange kind of fear. The mortuary, after all, was one vast memento mori and what was happening to Vasily Kutziyez’s body would serve to remind each and every one of us that if the body were a temple, t

] _______Author's Note________ Hi Readers, How have you been? Do you like the progress of the story? Can you guess who is the magnolia killer? Check out my other novel that is here on goodnovel.com The Villainous Emperor is My Pet? This novel is a lot different from this novel. It belongs to multiple genres: supernatural, paranormal, romance, mystery with mature content.

Even I felt sick to the stomach seeing the uneven, dark red body on the autopsy table. Officer Wright's face went as white as a sheet. "What monsters! They'd better not let me catch them!" "They're worse than monsters!" Zack trembled as his tone filled with rage. "From the condition of the body, the victim likely had her bones shattered and flesh dug out when she was still alive. Not only that—her teeth, eyes, and nails were all pulled out." His words drained the color from everyone's faces, and the atmosphere turned heavy in an instant.

The door slowly opened, and in the cold, sterile air, my lifeless body lay there, devoid of warmth or breath. Leisha covered her mouth and began to sob, though I couldn't tell if she was mourning or lamenting the sudden loss of her promised kidney. My mother, on the other hand, examined my corpse like a curious onlooker inspecting a strange object. "So, this is your so-called confirmed death?" she asked, her voice still laced with challenge and disbelief. The staff waited in silence for her reaction. To everyone’s shock, all she gave was a contemptuous laugh. "Ha! She’s putting on a good show.”

Thanks to the sun, one of the bodies began showing signs of lividity. The other bodies soon followed suit. In less than three minutes, all 12 bodies had gone into livor mortis. Those with basic medical knowledge knew that corpses would show reddish-purple or dark purple patches of discoloration on their skin. But the lividity shown on all 12 bodies was black. Every discolored patch was as big as a fist. All of the patches looked like floral patterns too, making them seem like blooming black flowers. Somehow, they looked quite eerie and frightening.

A husband, a wife and their only son. Colours, black and white. It was all black and white. Black and white meant death. So only two things held colour. Only two living things in the painting. Himself, and the fire. Ashleigh left Damien to himself for a few minutes. She knew the healing was not up to her but up to him. She was looking at some of the other awareness posters and some paintings around. After a while Damien approached her. "Ready to try again?" she asked him. "Yeah."

She has a quick reflex, incredible aptitudes, and she has different skills. Even if they managed to outsmart her with their teamwork, they still can't beat a necromancer. I have heard and read about necromancers. They had dark power and could kill without leaving any trace. An example is a white substance she blew at us earlier. Not only that, a necromancer can make you burn alive with just a spell. They can make maggots emerge in your body and make different insects you haven't seen before eating your liver, kidney, intestines, and all your organs from the inside without you knowing. They have unlimited power to the extent that they can poison your blood, food, or anything that belongs to y

"You are a sick, twisted monster." My mother glared at me. The doctor frowned and recommended genetic testing, suspecting a rare disease. My mother only sneered. "Rare disease? She's mentally warped. She fakes being sick to get attention!" The noon sun blazed overhead. I huddled under the shade canopy, trembling violently, clutching my collar shut. Then my mother shoved the canopy aside and overturned it. She tore off my long coat and pushed me down onto the scorching sand. The intense UV rays seared through my skin in an instant. Huge blisters swelled up along my arms, then burst one after another. My mother stood there, revulsion all over her face. "Iris, have you no shame left at all, fak