Prison Of The Dead Novels & Stories

They pumped me full of drugs that twisted reality, convincing me I was given a second chance at life. However, then, squinting at the tiny date on the digital screen by the security camera, the truth hit me hard. It was not a second chance; it was a con, elaborate and cruel. Justice did not go easy on them. Chester got life for murder, insurance scams, and a laundry list of other charges. My mother-in-law, the brains of the operation, got the same fate. Jane, tangled up in the murder and faking medical records, also got a life sentence.

he spoke giving me a death glare. “Well—” I moved closer to him until were almost breathing the same air, I untied the knots of his restrain before taking my former position. “You see, I need you to partake in a game. But I am not requesting you to join but rather, I am only announcing it—” “What kind of game are you talking about?” he cut me off. “It’s a death game. You’ll fight some other prisoner and whoever wins, gains a prize. Isn’t that spectacular? You’ll have whatever you want! You only need to win. That's all.” I laughed sarcastically.

There was something about looking at the boy today that gave her mixed feelings. She pulled out her phone and searched for the movie. Lead actors were Benjamin Frost and to her surprise, his son, Benjamin Frost Junior. She scrolled up and saw a news report of a plane crash. She clicked on it and read through. As she did, she realised it was similar to the story Damien once told of how he lost his parents. The article described how the great Benjamin Frost died with his wife, but his son survived. As she reached the end, the last few lines caused her utter confusion.

Eventually, I moved on to a new home, a new job, and a new life. One day, I received a call from the police. The officer said, "Ms. Sawyer, good evening. We found a man who froze to death overnight at a cemetery. "He was heavily intoxicated. We traced his records and found that you were listed as his emergency contact." I exhaled slowly. "I used to be, but not anymore. Please proceed with your standard protocols." "Understood. Sorry to disturb you." After hanging up, I looked toward the sky and whispered a quiet prayer. I asked the universe to send kindness to those who truly needed it.

"I assure you that it's not to see you, but I considered it necessary for you to find out that you are the worst piece of trash in this world. You have murdered your son, Leandro just died." Immediately, Bruno turned around, leaving Sergio there with his eyes wide open. Those words kept echoing in his mind, over and over again he heard, "Leandro just died." Sergio started screaming, completely unhinged. He repeatedly hit his head against the bed, his agonizing screams echoing throughout the hospital. His mind couldn't bear to hear it— he had murdered his own son.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of Carmen sitting on the couch, reading a book. Once she saw Evan, she held her arms open. Her voluptuous body was slightly visible beneath her sheer nightgown. Evan walked over to the couch and hugged her. He took a deep breath as he rested his head against her nape. "How did the autopsy go?" "The victim was a pitiful young woman. According to our preliminary findings, we suspect it's the work of an organ trafficking ring." Evan couldn't see Carmen's reaction, but as I was standing behind him, I could.

As my team began the silent trek towards the foreboding shadow of the Deadwood Forest, Kael fell into step beside me. “Ready?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper. “No,” I answered truthfully. “You?” “Not even a little.” We shared a brief, grim smile. Then all expression fell away, replaced by the hunter’s focus. The Deadwood Facility loomed ahead as the first true light of dawn bled into the sky. It was a monstrosity—a converted mine shaft fortified with black iron and crawling with the psychic residue of dark magic. Fifty guards, at least, patrolled its perimeter. And deep within its belly, two hundred prisoners waited, along with horrors Mara could only hint at.

Dozens of them, detailing every aspect of the dungeon operations. My fingers found the one I wanted. The incident report from a few hours ago. Prisoner 247 attacked Prisoner 891 in the labor yard. Prisoner 891 defended himself. Prisoner 247 deceased from injuries sustained. Cause of death: broken neck and severe head trauma. But that dry, clinical description did not capture what actually happened. I had spoken to the guards who witnessed it. Heard their accounts of how my brother moved faster than should have been possible, hit harder than any omega could, killed the strongest fighter in my dungeon with his bare hands.

This was how 2Pac killed most of his victims. He would do it efficiently and cleanly so that the prisoners wouldn’t suffer. The fighting tournaments were planned for elaborate executions and 2Pac was Princess Death Row’s executioner. Disguising an execution as a fighting tournament gave a lot of prisoners false hope, thinking they could fight their way to freedom. Mark was one of many. Out of all the deaths, Mark’s death was the cleanest. After executing Mark, 2Pac recorded the decapitation and stored it in his memory cloud database. He kept other recordings of sinister executions in his database.

I instantly started to run towards the sound. I ran faster. My lungs began to burn. The courtyard came into view and what I saw made me to stop dead. There were bodies. There was several of them which was now scattered across the ground. There were some guards and then prisoners in their gray uniforms that was not moving. And in the center of it all lay a massive form who was lying in a pool of blood. Prisoner 247. I recognized his bulk even from here. I didn't need to be told that he was dead.