The Death Club Novels & Stories

Let alone a man, even a tank would be crushed into scrap if hit by that club! The club was spiked, so even at his level, Zayn would not dare let it strike him. He would not be killed by such a blow, but it was not necessary. Zayn stepped forward in a buoyant, relaxed manner and gave the top of the man’s head a heavy slap. There was agony in the man’s formerly expression while his pupils began to dilate. In truth, the man had already died. In less than half a second, Zayn had killed him.

Her door was locked behind her by Prince's boys and they strangled her. They made it seem like a suicide as they hung her to the ceiling fan with a suicide note. They thought everything would end there, but as they were trying to leave her house unnoticed. The cops were coming and they was a shoot out. Several cops were killed and they finally caught the killers after shooting their legs. They were tortured to confess who sent them to kill Deborah, but they remained adamant as a loyal dog to the core and wouldn't want to breach their loyalty. Since they didn't want to reveal more information, they were prosecuted and executed. They died by firing squad and Prince was there.

It was death! TBC...

GEORGE'S POV The club, once a haven for my illicit dealings, had suddenly transformed into a cauldron of rage and betrayal. The air was thick with tension as I received the news from Anderson that those ordered to kill my wife are dead; the operation hadn't been successful. Claire was still alive, despite all the plans I had made. I sprang into anger as Anderson and Gerard stood before me. My face turned beet red with rage as I slammed my cup to the ground, shattering it into a hundred pieces. The sound echoed through the club, making everyone's head turn.

I said, “and please, be honest with me.” The bastard shit me a death glare. “Do you work with the Crow?” Bingo. He snarled and lunged for his gun. I shot him, the bullet tearing through his shoulder. “I guess you are one. After all, you got promoted recently, after the new boss was put in place. Your club is getting destroyed, all the men you know murdered and your wives would have to hold a mass burial for you tomorrow. Please make it worth my whole. Tell me who the crow is.”

she said, entering back into Eli's room and shutting the door behind her. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! My watch beeps aloud. I was already running late to work, so I dashed out of the hospital and took a cab. ******* I worked at Club Kill, a strip club in the city. Only the most powerful Alphas and Mafia bosses come here. My head spun from the noise, my heels clicking as I pushed through the side entrance. “Lucy!” Kent, the club owner, called from behind the bar. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he smelled like old cigars. “Tonight’s not packed, Lucy. If you want to get paid, you must take personal orders.”

I’m screaming and the gap is screaming and my sons are screaming and reality itself seems to scream at the wrongness of Prime Wolf ending this way. But Original Death is satisfied. “Significant sacrifice accepted,” it announces. “Death is partially restored through his ending. The rest requires you, Mabel. You have forty-eight hours to structure negotiable death properly or I return and claim everyone. Beginning now.” It disappears back into wherever it sleeps between wakings, leaving me holding Alistair’s corpse and knowing I have two days to fix death or lose everyone like I just lost him. The three Council members who wanted absolute death are gone, absorbed by Original Death.

After the successful completion of a mission, Connor Weston, the youngest patrol division captain of the pack, had fallen into an eternal sleep on that rainy day. … After his death, my soul began to dissipate, like dew evaporating into the air under the morning sun. In my final glimpse, I saw Chris rush into the infirmary. He then fell to his knees and clutched Connor's hand, his shoulders trembling violently. Later, I saw Connor buried beside my grave. Our two tombstones stood close together, as they were always meant to be. I witnessed many pack members come to pay their respects, saying things like, "It was such a shame for a hero like him to die so young."

Not for this. Not even for someone like Slick. I started walking toward the waiting room. “When I’m done with that motherfucker, he’s going to wish he was the one lying in that hospital bed.” Death grabbed my arm. “Hold up.” I looked back. “How are we getting him back to the clubhouse?” I didn’t answer. “If he realizes something is wrong, he’ll run.” I smiled coldly. “Let him.” Death studied me. “Nick…” “His death will be sweeter if he thinks he has a chance.”

Your dad and I are just going to have to keep molding him in the projects a bit longer. My gaze froze. Darkness crept into the edges of my vision, and a loud buzzing filled my ears. It was an act… The poverty was fake. My family was filthy rich. They had deliberately pinned that 100 dollars on me too… "No, no… That can't be true!" I lunged at Dad, wanting to grab him and scream at him, but my fingers passed straight through his body. "What the hell?" I collapsed heavily onto the floor. As I realized what was happening, a choked sob escaped me. "I'm dead…"