Pulp Fiction Dead Storage Novels & Stories

On the large presentation screen behind her, a digital file transfer bar was moving rapidly: BLACKBRIAR_MASTER_ARCHIVE_PURGE: 88% COMPLETE. "Liora started the total system wipe five minutes ago," Marcus said, a cruel smile spreading across his pale face. "Every digital record of the 2012 accounts, every ledger, every name associated with Arthur Kane's death... wiped forever. In ninety seconds, there won't be a single piece of evidence left anywhere on Earth." "Where is the physical hard copy?" Elias demanded, stepping forward, his hands clenched into fists. "Father kept an offline master hard drive in the floor safe!"

"Is this enough? I can get more. I'd rather the money come to me than go to the mistress." I counted the zeros. More than 150 million. Well, that was screw-you money, certainly. "More than enough. Alright, here's the plan. We can…" … We came up with the perfect plan and decided to fake our deaths. The date? My sister-in-law's birthday. The one to push the blame to? My husband's mistress, Lorelei. Oh, some people might call me cruel, but you should've seen the message she sent me. I'd love to make sure she gets a life sentence.

After my older sister, Elise Sterling, is supposedly imprisoned for financial crimes, I become the target of retaliation from her enemies. I can't find a job and live under constant threats. Almost every morning, I find garbage left outside my door. At night, I come home to find my front door splattered with red paint, imitating blood. I break down and fall into depression. Over the next five years, I make three attempts to end my life. The last time, as I lay there after emptying the entire bottle of sleeping pills down my throat, waiting for everything to end, I suddenly hear my sister's frantic voice. "I only wanted to punish Leon! Why did you take it this far?" Her godbrother,

Before I could say anything, she grabbed General Zod by the collar of his suit and disappeared out of sight. The jungle is now as silent as a graveyard. No sounds were heard except for some soldiers that were groaning in pain. I examine the place once again, and the dead bodies are littered all around the jungle floor. The processor did a lot of damage to them. Without wasting another second, I sauntered toward the multi-coloured door-looking portal and different thoughts were clouding my mind.

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.

And there was no turning back. “We’ve got a location on him,” Viktor said, breaking the silence. He pointed to the map spread across the table, tapping his finger against a red circle. “Lower East Side, an old warehouse that used to belong to the DeLuca family. He’s been spotted there twice in the last week.” “Do we know how many men he has with him?” I asked, leaning over the table. “A few,” Viktor replied. “He’s moving carefully, staying under the radar. We can’t risk an all-out assault, he’ll disappear before we even step foot inside.”

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

I only smiled bitterly as I knew that would be my end. Brandon would only say ‘no’ to all my requests. Every police officer was put on the same case. The resources were pulled to investigate this drug dealer. They finally spotted the drug dealers’ whereabouts on a boat that was planning to leave the country. They had managed to capture ten drug dealers. Brandon had already almost gone insane. After the truth was revealed, Olivia had disappeared with Jack. Lucy could not accept the fact that I was dead. She got an aneurysm from being too upset about it and was admitted to the ICU.

For instance, there was no way to undo regret or get my life back. Soon, the sounds of police sirens filled the air. Several police officers then approached the scene, taking in the bizarre sight. There was a man in tattered clothing trying to slip checks into a private hospital's paramedic's clothes, a horribly frozen corpse in a curled-up position, and my ledger notes scattered on the ground—notes in which I asked Mom and Dad to sell my organs for money. The officers quickly secured the scene and began checking everybody's identification as usual. "Alright, show me your ID! Who is the dead person here? And what do all these notes on the ground mean?"

And I’d do it all again. Because love wasn’t just gentle words and promises. Sometimes love was violence. Sometimes it was blood on your hands and bodies in the dark. Sometimes it was becoming a monster so she never had to. My phone buzzed one final time. Unknown number. I answered. “Mr. Moretti?” A voice I didn’t recognize. “This is Officer Chen. I’m calling about Alicia Morgan.” My blood went cold. “What about her?” “I’m sorry to inform you she’s dead. Apparent suicide. Hanged herself in her cell about an hour ago.”