Quotes About Death Harry Potter

In order to save his crush, Zach Clark bought a dismembered female torso from the black market. He personally removed the kidney from the torso for his crush’s kidney transplant. To prevent the police from chasing him down, he threw the torso into sulphuric acid to destroy the evidence. But he did not know that the torso belonged to me.

My adopted sister, an Omega who has always seemed delicate, harmless, and wolf-less, vanishes the night before full moon. Everyone, including my parents and my mate—the Alpha who's supposed to protect me—blames me for driving her away. They drag me to the Memory Offering altar, bind my wolf in silver chains, and demand the truth from my memories. Little do they know that my body has been laced with 99 silver needles, buried deep under my skin, each one driven in by the hand of the innocent girl they adore the most. The silverbane has seeped through my blood, eating away at my bones and my wolf spirit. I don't have long. So, I seize control. I invoke the oldest rite in the pack, the Memory Offering, to let them see the truth with their own eyes. For three years, I've been the one who was framed, humiliated, and tortured. Meanwhile, my so-called gentle sister is the real monster behind it all. By the time the truth is revealed, the silverbane has devoured my soul. Bathed in the blinding white light of the rite, I die on that cold, stone altar, with a pain that cuts to the bone and a peace that feels almost like freedom.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

Right after my bonding ceremony with Alpha Carlo, his first love, Olivia, died unexpectedly. For fifty years after that, I gave everything I had for Carlo and the Shadowmoon pack. We had five pups, and the pack thrived. But then, on the 50th anniversary of me becoming Luna, Carlo dragged me to the Moonlit Platform. He was going to break our mate bond himself. And after he brutally severed it, he drained all my soul power. He said he was going to use an ancient ritual to bring Olivia back to life. And I, the Luna who’d been by his side for half a century, was the perfect vessel. My desperate cries brought our children running, but they just stood behind Carlo, watching me with cold eyes. “Bringing Aunt Olivia back is the only thing Father has wanted for years,” one said. “If you hadn’t been jealous of Aunt Olivia, if you’d used your healing on her, you wouldn’t be our mother!” another spat. The children I’d poured my heart and soul into raising now just wanted me to die. I felt my soul shatter, my heart ache as if pierced by a knife, and then, nothing. I lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day of my bonding ceremony with Carlo. In my last life, Carlo chose me, his Head Healer. Olivia, though, was devoured by a venom-fang spider and died from its poison. Her death had nothing to do with me, but Carlo blamed me for all of it. This time, looking into Carlo's eyes, I saw the deep disgust there, and any hope I had left died. He was back too.

My fiancée is a forensic doctor, and I'm a detective in the major crimes unit. I love her more than life itself, but she only cares about her first love. To help him wash his hands of a murder, she helps him deal with a corpse. What she doesn't know is that it's my corpse. When she learns the truth, she breaks down…

The night before our Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Ryker of the Howling Moon Pack, ordered me to give him the Moon Soul Crystal—the very thing that protected my pack, the Willow Creek Pack. He said he needed it to power up the Howling Moon Pack's Blood Moon Altar. He also promised he'd keep me and my people safe. But he didn't know that we, the healers of the Willow Creek Pack, can only create one Moon Soul Crystal in our entire lives. Making one takes a crazy amount of moon energy. It's the treasure that keeps our pack alive. My mother, worried about me using up my moon energy while I was pregnant, gave up her own Moon Soul Crystal instead. But just three months after Ryker and I were mated, she got sick, fast. She was dying. I knelt in front of Ryker, crying, begging him for the Silverleaf Herb from the Howling Moon's forbidden grounds. It was the only thing that could save my mom. But he just looked at me, his eyes full of disappointment, and kicked me away. "I asked for the Moon Soul Crystal to test you," he snarled. "And just as I thought, you married me for our pack's treasures! Your mother's not sick. You're making it all up!" "You don't deserve to be the Luna of the Howling Moon Pack!" It wasn't until after my mother died, when he was arguing with me, trying to kick me out of the pack, that my mother's things fell and scattered everywhere. Her Soul Stone, the symbol of a wolf's spirit, shattered. That's when he finally realized he was wrong. He fell to his knees, begging me not to leave, crying for me to forgive him.

My husband's adopted sister invited me out to dinner, and while we were eating, disaster struck—a violent earthquake shook the ground beneath us. My husband, a firefighter, rushed to the scene as quickly as he could. But fate had a cruel plan for us. We were trapped beneath a massive boulder, unable to move, and the rescuers could only save one of us. He made his choice. He chose her—the adopted sister who had always been frail and sickly—over me, his wife, who was five months pregnant with his child. I begged him, pleaded with him to save me. But he turned his back on me. The boulder pressed harder, and I felt the sickening crack of my arm breaking. He didn't even flinch. "Alice has always been weak," he said coldly. "If I leave her here, she'll die." But when I died, he lost his mind.

Three days after I died, my fiancé got a call to ID the body. He just scoffed. "She's dead, so what? Call me when she's in the ground." The cops, out of options, hit up my backup contact—my childhood friend. He actually laughed. "She's really gone? Not my problem. Burn her or whatever." Then my body hit the internet— And suddenly, both of them looked like ghosts.

Ang ampon ng aking ama ay ikinulong lamang sa masikip na storage closet nang halos labinlimang minuto, ngunit tinalian niya ako at itinapon sa loob bilang parusa. Tinakpan pa niya ang ventilation gamit ang mga tuwalya. "Bilang nakatatandang kapatid ni Wendy, kung hindi mo siya kayang alagaan, marapat lamang na maranasan mo rin ang takot na naramdaman niya,” seryoso niyang sabi. Alam niyang may claustrophobia ako, ngunit ang aking mga desperadong pakiusap, ang aking matinding takot, ay sinagot lang ng malupit na sermon. "Magsilbi sana itong aral sayo para maging mabuting kapatid." Nang tuluyang lamunin ng kadiliman ang huling hibla ng liwanag, nakakaawa akong nagpumiglas. Isang linggo ang lumipas bago muling naalala ng aking ama na may anak pa siyang nakakulong at nagpasya siyang tapusin na ang aking parusa. "Sana'y naging magandang aral sa iyo ang isang linggong ito, Jennifer. Kung mangyayari pa ito muli, hindi ka na pwedeng manatili sa bahay na ito." Ngunit kailanman ay hindi niya malalaman na matagal ko nang nalanghap ang aking huling hininga sa nakakasulasok na silid na iyon. Sa kadiliman, unti-unti nang nabubulok ang aking katawan.