Unk Death Novels & Stories

Over my dead fucking body. **************************************************

However, the person who had just been killed condensed again, revealing the appearance of Huan He. "Haha, I'm an Undead!"

Opening his eyes, he saw the portal right before him. "Jump!!!" Edrek shouted, this time, orally and out loud. Nick jump in. Darkness. Darkness. Extreme damn darkness. ************* Thump! Nick fell, smacking his fore-head against a rock-wait, what?! Skulls!!! He had landed on cold rotten smelly skulls! Yuck! Couldn't he have landed on anything else but skulls?! "Karma."Nick sighed under his breath. He stood up slowly, the pearl still in his clutch.

I'm not a cruel person, I may or may not have tied her up in the beginning but seeing her weak and dangling frame I didn't want to do that again. I was my own business man and at least I didn't have to die every couple of years out of suspicion of not aging. Now that vampires were out we were safe to keep our businesses and die when the time was right. It felt like a weight was lifted off of me because off all the trouble that would be to keep dying and hiding until I died.

Nikolas asked, confusion emanated from him in waves at my lack of reaction, "You're surprisingly non hyper-verbal." I only nodded. I mean, am I supposed to be surprised? In a span of four months, five people I thought were dead came back to life. I suddenly had a brother. My mother is a big bitch. My father kidnapped my daughter. I killed my father. My uncle wants me dead. So yeah, me joining the list of dead people didn't shock me that much. Nikolas stared back at me, confused and I can say a little bit worried, "You sure you're okay?" He asked. I took in a deep breath to saturate my lungs before I leaned backward and rested my eyes.

The world should end on a Monday. There’s something honest about that. Brutal, yes, but clean. A Monday already has the emotional texture of damp socks and unpaid bills, so adding zombies feels less like a cosmic betrayal and more like management escalating a complaint. Unfortunately, the world chooses Thursday at 6:17 p.m., while Maya Rodriguez is standing barefoot in her kitchen, trying to decide whether expired sour cream is a negotiable concept. “It smells fine,” Dex says from behind her.

For the first time in 2026, I felt alive. We reached the basement—the morgue. It was the only way out that Silas hadn't blocked yet. The air was freezing, smelling of chemicals and silence. "My car is in the ambulance bay," Julian wheezed, his face damp with sweat. We ran past the silver drawers of the dead. But as we reached the exit, Julian stopped. He looked at a body lying on a gurney, covered in a white sheet. A hand was sticking out from under the cloth—a hand wearing a gold wedding ring.

It was just… empty. I was tired. Tired of trying. Tired of being misunderstood. Tired of losing. My mom knocked softly on the door again. “Mace? Do you want me to make you tea after all?” I took a shaky breath. “Maybe later.” “Okay. I’ll leave you to rest.” When she left, I finally picked up my phone again. Just to turn it off. But before I could, a notification flashed across the screen. New Headline: “Inside Macey Carter’s Meltdown—What Really Happened Outside Sterling & Co.”

If I lost that final memento, I would surely go mad. William extended his hand toward me. “Welcome, my new packmate.” I heard that after I left, Anthony was deposed. He spent his nights dreaming of his son, but he could no longer feel his presence. He claimed that I was heartless for not even telling him where our son’s grave was. He visited the oldest witch in the pack and finally learned that I had hidden Andrew’s resting place in the Icefields. One day, I saw Anthony dead before Andrew’s grave. He knelt within a strange circle, using the silver knife I had given him to stab his own heart.