The Death Cure Newt Death Page Novels & Stories

**Author's Note: Stranger than Murder is being updated weekly as well. Take a moment to check out that story it has holiday themed chapters as well. I hope you like it. Please coment and vote on what you enjoy the most from My Death Contract as well as Stranger than Murder. Happy New Year's! \(*^*)/ **

Even though this was an outcome I had predicted, I was still unable to stop my tears from falling when I saw them together. They were so desperate to be with one another, so much so that they couldn't even wait to get a room at a motel. All they did was find some random bushes where no one could see them before they started getting intimate so brazenly. After wiping my tears away, I walked toward our home. Having left my farewell "gift", I swallowed the red potion that I had bought from the witch at a huge cost. That potion would forcibly sever my mate bond for me. Thereafter, I closed my eyes and waited for the potion to take effect.

The thing spasmed, then lay still. “You killed it,” Patsy said, rising. “Looks like,” Dewey said. On the other side of the lock, Newt Whipple wasn’t faring well. Obese from the bloat of corruption, the female floater had him on the ground, bared teeth snapping at him, dripping hair nearly obscuring the youngster’s face. Pressing his staff under its throat, Newt struggled to fend off his attacker. But even as Patsy looked for a way to get across the lock, Roger rushed onto the dock carrying a bucket which he used to slam the deader off Newt and then pounded the thing’s head with the bucket till its skull was a mass of bone and brain and its limbs stopped thrashing and it lay as still as its p

Seeing that I am losing him, I went to my mother for help, and she told me it was called Lunar Decay—a supernatural disease that eats away at a werewolf's soul connection to the Moon, the source of our power and healing. I asked for the cure, but she told me there was none except death. Just like she had seen two months ago. I begged her to change it. But she refused. She said the cost of rewriting death was too great. That it would claim the lives of countless innocents in exchange. So she refused to help or heal him. But still I can't let him die. So I began to search for a cure. But day by day, Raleigh was getting weaker and I could see life draining from him, see the light in his eyes di

While I was transporting the sculpture away, I felt extremely agitated looking at the snapped finger. Before receiving the DNA analysis report, I still had hopes that this person might not be Hazel. Even animals would not harm their young. No matter how cruel the Larsons could be, they would not possibly do such a thing. Yet, I had underestimated a person's greed. When Layla's mother took out the suicide note in the police station, I was close to crumbling and falling apart at that point. I knew what I was looking at was forged, and I knew that Hazel had died in their hands. Yet, there was nothing I could do.

my lips twitched in pity as I faked sadness, "You'll simply die." "Don't be as stupid as the man in the next room." I said while shaking my head, "He chose his loyalty over his life, and do you know what that got him?" Her eyebrows furrowed as if trying to analyze my words, "Probably all his bones are now broken, half of his skin is not even attached to his body anymore, the flesh of his nose touched his mouth-" I slightly winced at the image, "And I really can't point out the position of one of his eyes anymore." My lips pursed, "And you know what the best part?" I wasn't waiting for an answer, "I got to hear his screams as the acid flowed into his blood and slowly ripped him from inside as

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.

" Dalton is leaving, Nish seems somewhat uncomfortable. The boys walk past him and rejoin the party. If I was alive those guys wouldn't be here. They do not belong to the group. But what group? To the group of hypocrites? I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at Dalton, who had gestured with his glass to Nisha. But what he did next gave me a lot to understand: he forms a pistol with his fingers and aims at Nish, but then he points himself in the forehead and shoots himself. A flashback appears in my mind: a dark room, a silhouette in front of me, a gun pointed at me, and a shot. I came out of my thoughts totally scared by what had happened. I had had a memory. A memory of my death.

If it ever did, he would dismiss it as a mere gossip. Marcus continued staring through the windows as the greenery rushed past them, while he turned back inwardly to something that was troubling his soul. His mind told him he had made a mistake. His ego told him that what he did was right. It was not every day that one got to deal with a witch, even if it was a little boy. That wouldn’t have been a problem if he had not nearly choked because the boy, Jason was looking at him. Dean had died soon after. Problem was he didn’t know how powerful the boy was.