Resurrection: A Novel Novels & Stories

"This isn't a long-term solution. You must find the person who placed the curse on you and have them lift it." Recalling the nun's words, I threatened the woman who was bawling her eyes out in front of me, "The curse bounces back twice as hard, Mirabelle. You don't have long. If you don't make the caster undo it, you'll be dead in a few days!" Frightened out of her wits, she stopped crying and spilled everything. "The caster is Elias Frostback from my village. He came to me one day and asked if I wanted to marry a rich man. Of course, I said yes.

The particular book appears in front of him as HE gladly reads the title out loud. “Death Resurgence.” As the book opens and the series of the current events begin to flash and flood. HE giggles in HIS utmost amusement, as HE presented. “Well, well, well. Shall we learn the ropes of what lies within the Resurgence?” From the book that deliberately flips and presented the gist of the world that it brings, the words are written and said.

People who had been buried for centuries opened their eyes. Some returned peacefully. Others returned angry. Some wanted revenge. Some wanted their old lives back. And some wanted to rule the living. Lucien looked at Sophia. “What do we do?” Sophia looked at Death. Then Seraphina. Then the thousands of resurrected souls. She whispered: “We fix it.” Death shook her head. “You can’t.” Sophia turned. “Why?” Death looked terrified. “Because death has already made its choice.” Sophia’s heart sank. “What choice?”

“He’ll be pleased to hear you finally got the mark, Elizabeth. This mark binds you to him, but also his soul. And whether he loves you or not, it doesn’t matter, because we already have all we need for the resurrection.” A chill ran down my spine, but I didn’t say a word. Felix was a man who was far from ordinary, and even saying his name struck terror in me. As a child, I always saw him as my father, but as I grew up, I knew there was something dangerously scary about him. “Mother, what is the resurrection, and why has no one told me anything about it? I really want to know.” “Oh, Elizabeth,” Mother smiled. “You will. And you’ll also witness it. It’s going to be so glorious… and it will be

Soon, the air was clear of smoke and Amren immediately collapsed on the cold floor. Rhysand lay on the bed while Amren lay on the floor. The room quiets down after witnessing the forbidden ritual take place under their watch, the book of Resurrection on the table. Cold air blew into the room and flung open the chapters of the book, Witch Resurrection Dose. There the chapter of the book was written. "The Consequences of This Ritual is the exchange of the witch's life....INTERCHANGE OF DEATH AND LIFE....The Doer Dies, The Dead comes back to life"

Yet she knew, the room was cold and silent, and for the first time in seven months, Elena Sanchez Windsor opened her eyes. She blinked slowly as she took in the hospital room. The first thing she noticed was the sizable amount of books and ‘Get well soon cards’. Almost like someone had been hoarding them or collecting them like prized figurines. The next thing she noted was the sheer size and opulence of the room. She knew she was in a hospital, that much was abundantly clear but this wasn’t an ordinary hospital room. No, this was one of those special expensive ones reserved for people who could afford it.

I looked at his fierce, unyielding eyes, burning with a terrifying devotion to another woman. I felt something snap inside me. The last tiny spark of hope, the foolish, pathetic little voice that had wondered for three years if Banjo Vance had a soul buried somewhere inside him died completely. I took a slow, deep breath. "Give me the pen," I said, my voice dead, flat, and hollow as a grave. Banjo’s lips curved into a triumphant, arrogant smirk. He handed me the pen. "A wise decision, Merinda. You always were sensible when cornered."

The evening breeze was gentle, carrying the fresh scent of early summer plants growing. In the courtyard below, children laughed and ran around. Elderly residents strolled leisurely. Life flowed on in its most ordinary and solid form. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air. The three months after Arya's death, which had been full of her family's scheming, were like a long, oppressive nightmare. Thankfully, I had woken up. Wounds would scab over, pain would fade, and the lessons I learned would stay with me, making me stronger and wiser going forward. Night fell, and the city lights came on. I went back inside and turned on the lights. Warm illumination instantly filled the ent

The Last Architect; Deep within the heart of the old world, beneath a structure preserved not by necessity but by reverence, a single man stood at the edge of time. Liam. No longer the young genius who once bent systems to his will, No longer even the resilient survivor who had outlived extinction. Now An Elder. His body frail, his movements slow, but his mind… still sharp in the way that only those who have seen everything can be. The chamber around him pulsed softly with light. Not harsh, Not mechanical but very much Alive. The Resurrection Project his life’s final works stood complete. He exhaled slowly, steadying himself against the console as his gaze lifted to the tank at the center of

The dark flame in her eyes ignited and the jar in her hand tightened as I took another step closer. “How do you feel Rowena?” I took another step closer. “Don't you feel the anomaly in your soul, contaminating your magic? Like a little leech feeding off your magic. You may not have felt it in the past because you didn't have your magic but I'm sure you can now,” I folded my arms. “I corrupted Emily's resurrection spell and infused an anomaly into your resurrection with my magic. In plain words, you are already as good as dead, Rowena, and now, you come up with a little brilliant plan to kill me,” I smirked. “I dare you Rowena, light up that jar, and let's see who's going to get burned,”