Pulp Fiction Dead Storage Novels & Stories

She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and stomped out. Downstairs, the corner store door slammed open. Delia grabbed Mr. Parker, the owner, by the sleeve. "You seen William? Third-floor guy." He blinked, wiped grease off his hands. "William? He's been dead five years." Delia froze, then gave a sharp laugh. "Yeah, right. He's not the dying type." "Wish I was joking." He nodded toward the alley. "Family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad. Didn't make it to the ER. You his what?"

He is the head of the Italian mafia. I kept the contract aside and picked another file from the drawer. Opening it I saw peoples information. They had their status written as dead. All dead, not a single one was alive. There were more than five hundred pages in here. Under causes, I saw it written some as torture, bullet hits, fire, drowning, burning alive, burying alive... What the fuck!? Then I saw a name making my eyes tear. Lucifer Arson. Status: dead. Date: August 4th 2021

The deadline was still two hours away, but the leverage had already shifted. We went back to my house. Cole checked the yard and the fence line while I reset every code and camera I owned. When he came inside I was standing in the kitchen with the share agreement open on the laptop. I deleted the P*F, then emptied the trash, then shut the computer down. “It’s finished,” I said. “For tonight. Richard will look for another angle. Men like him always do.” “Then he’ll find the same answer.” Cole stepped close, the smell of the shop still faint on his skin even after the long day. “And the overtime?”

A long glass wall revealing a second room behind it dark, silent, and as ominous as an unmarked grave. “This is it,” Cole said. “Harrison’s forbidden archive.” Savannah stepped closer to the glass. “What’s inside?” “Everything,” Cole said. “Every illegal deal he made. Every bribe. Every blackmail. Every offshore account tied to his name or his father’s. And… everything he planned to use against Jackson.” Savannah stared at the dark room beyond the glass. “Why does it look empty?” Cole’s expression shifted. “Because the files aren’t digital. They’re physical.”

he said softly, "Look out the broken window. There is no one out there." I didn't look. I couldn't. Every part of me was telling me to keep my eyes on him. I knew how fast he could move. I knew what he was capable of doing before a person even had time to react. "Why are you here?" I asked, my voice breaking as the gun shook in my hands. "How did you find me? I burned the car... I died! Everyone knows I died!" “I know you didn't die in that fire, mi vida," he said quietly.

I crashed onto the floor and passed out cold. A high fever swallowed me like fire. My dreams were full of the suffocation of drowning in the icy river, and the coldness on Julian's face when he threw my bags out the window. A loud email notification ripped me out of my nightmare. I was dripping in cold sweat, my whole body aching like it had been dismantled. I grabbed my hot phone by the pillow. It was an urgent email from my law professor. I opened the attachment. It was a security video. But it had been maliciously edited. The start and end were cut. No footage of Scarlett burning me with her cigarette. No footage of the mobsters beating me up.

She turned sharply toward Sarah. Sarah's mind went completely blank. She had only moved Elena's "Into Stillness" recently. She had deemed it unthreatening and stored it away to gather dust in a small gallery she had purchased after returning to the country. She figured she would deal with it eventually, or maybe never. She could let it rot in the dark while her own work glittered in the front hall, praised and admired. It symbolized the stark contrast between how things ended for her and Elena. How did it end up with Cecilia?

"Eve, can you stop being so stubborn? I've apologized, and I'm willing to pay. What more do you want? Will you not let it rest until I'm in prison?" David nodded. "Exactly. The dead can't come back to life. You need to move on. 20 grand is a lot. A life isn't even worth that much in rural areas."

Edward was dead. He had a heart attack after Jenny enraged him, and despite attempts to revive him, he died on the spot. With a heavy heart, I took care of Edward’s funeral arrangements before immediately calling the police. From that day on, Jenny and Marcus Grange, along with those thugs, would pay dearly for what they had done! In the past, I might have let them off the hook out of respect for Edward. However, now that Jenny had killed the only person protecting her and caused her own father’s death, I would make her suffer a thousand times over!

Liquor for instance. The coffee shop is welcoming, soothing and calm. With the usual designs you often see on a typical coffee shops. Chalkboards that are scribbled with random names and words, most I can't even pronounce, serve as a window behind Jean. “You fucked the billionaire Jordan Crown?” Jean exclaims, her eyes looking like two huge marbles. “Lower your voice,” I shush her. I glance around, watching consciously if anyone must have heard her. “Yes, I had sex with him. Don't make it sound bad.”