Read Death Novels & Stories

Death was standing in front of me. I had no doubt that this was the night I was going to die; in an empty park with freezing rain just starting to fall. My nothing-special life was going to end in a way I would never in a million years have seen coming. A nothing-special death sounded so much better right then.

To help her childhood sweetheart, David Middleton, take my place studying abroad, my wife, Sharon Griffin, destroys my records and deliberately fills in false information, ensuring that I'm permanently denied a visa. She even severely injured my hands before sending me to the Behavioral Reform Center. My mother-in-law, Paula Brown, who has always treated me with affection, takes Sharon's side. "Kyle is so ungrateful. We gave him everything, and he still wanted to get a PhD abroad to find his biological parents. Who's going to take care of me if he's gone?" Sharon snorts. "He's just vain. When he found out I'd turned down Westbridge's offer of admission, he gave me the silent treatment an

I didn’t imagine the voice. It was as clear as day, as loud as if she were standing right next to me. And even though my mind is doubting it, my heart knows for a fact that it was her. Except she’s dead. …Right? Or is she “dead” in the same way Headmaster Stroud suspects my father is dead? Meaning, alive somewhere. “Come on,” Alec whispers. He leads the way out of the bush, and we peek around the pool house’s corner. The coast is clear.

I cut them off with a shout, "WHAT IS THIS EXACTLY?!" El sighed, "It's nothing." "I know about D.A.C already." I sighed, "What's more to know?" El gulped, "Nothing." "Just say it." He sighed, "People involve with the corporation tend to die." "Stop being overdramatic." I reasoned out, "Everyone's going to die someday; no one lives forever." "What I mean is that people tend to die earlier than the year they should die." He shrugged, "It's a fact."

Yolanda’s body finally crumpled to the ground, lifeless and devoid of vitality. Her death came swiftly, so fast that she barely had time to utter a final cry. The air was thick with a profound silence, as if even the wind had come to a standstill. Everyone fell into a heavy silence, gazing at her lifeless form, as though reflecting on the chaos and suffering she had wrought. Her death marked the end of a chapter, a grim resolution to the torment she had caused.

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

Alpha Matthew, who loved her so deeply, seemed to have a hard time accepting this reality. After he came to, the first thing he did was rush to the lake. Desperately, he grabbed at the pitiful warriors. "No. It can't be. Amber isn't dead! She's carrying my child. We are about to be parents. Why would she take her own life? "I don't believe it. I will not believe that she's dead until I see her body. You people are lying to me. I will find her and get her back!" A warrior explained hesitantly, "Alpha Matthew, based on our investigation, Luna Amber was diagnosed with perinatal depression. This explains why she would take her own life.

In timing. These souls were not scheduled. They were not substitutions. No balance was redirected to account for their removal. They were taken because Death chose to take them. That distinction matters. “You intervened,” I say. This is not accusation. It is record. Death does not deny it. He stands exactly as he always does when he carries excess, posture steady, attention precise. The markings along his form burn faintly, not fading, not dispersing. Pain contained where it always is. Within him.

Like the presence of our loved ones is finally at rest and we are free to move on. The dancing starts shortly after. We have mounted their death and now it is time to celebrate their lives. The cool air dries my tear-stained cheeks as I laugh and spin, dancing with my people. There is a kinship forming here, one where pain deepens it, but joy solidifies it. Everyone smiles and laughs as drinks and food flood the area and memories spill into the meadow like a dam releasing its waters.

They think the young Mort who will dominate the Underground in the future is the "Perfect One" As a child, Mort has already contributed a lot to the clan, especially in ammo and weaponry. He has also won many battles against the Underground countless times. People considered him a threat and is feared by everyone. He became infamous in the Underground and nicknamed him 'DEATH'. Certain and Quick Death, he never lets his opponents speak before he kills them. He doesn't need to hear any of their pleas or last words. The important thing for him is they die in his hand and won't allow them to cheat death.