What Is Worse Than Death

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

“WAKE UP, DANIELA!” The death warning, yet rather a call that Daniela dreamed about after walking up in the series of chances, greed, sacrifices, and the seven deadly sins, and from an inevitable chance to turn back into time and run into the loop of space and dimension. To her life that was surrounded with lies, blessed fate, but curse destiny she is entwined to save the person who is long dead from the present that she never had in the first place. Now being stunned by the life she never dreams of having, she runs toward the series of miseries behind the hidden books of the reincarnated blood she bares. “Death reincarnated, that is your world and your book.” To the chances that were led by greed, longing or hope, will the past that alters by the son of darkness, will long be able to vanish? What if what everyone knew was a lie, and the lie that they are trying to run away from is the truth they are seeking after all? Will the world they are walking that is filled with the unknown they only knew will lead them to the truth of who is the clone from the original? Can she solve the puzzle of the first book in her world that revolves in the mystery of a tarot deck? From the series of reincarnation and dimension can she solve the real mystery of ‘Who is the real dead one?’

Gabriella was living with her abusive father while going to college on a scholarship. She never thought she was different, or special, she thought she was the most normal basic person there was seeing as she knew the types of things other people around her were. Consider her best friend. Rich wealthy and beautiful, a werewolf. When she finds out some surprising things, she finds the same person wanting her and she wanted him just as much, Death himself.

After the death of Mary's dad, her life becomes a mess. Mary couldn't accept that she doesn't see the death reaper will come to fetch her father nor realize it sooner. That is when Mary thought being able to see Grim Reaper and how the people around her die was useless. To ended it all, she decided to commit suicide only to find out that she will be wake up in others' bodies. But when the Grim Reaper named Saint came to her. Not to fetch her soul but to offer her a contract to be a living Grim Reaper, everything change. However, what would she do if along the way she fell in love with the grim reaper? Would she choose to stay alive or to die peacefully?

"You can't reject me!" She pleaded with tears glistening her eyes, while he stands there indifferent. Hatred evident in his grey orbs. "Please!" He moves closer to her , entrapping her body between the wall and his big frame. Looking at her from top to bottom in disgust, he seethes at her. "You should have thought about it before sleeping with the bast***" "You should have thought about it before betraying me mate." ............ She was a havoc created by nature, found wrapped in a blanked at the side of a river. Bullied and shunned by the werewolf society. She was a mere rogue who was surviving. Untill he came , hating her. Cursing her and playing with her like a prey. Doing everything to break her like her betrayal has broken her. If only he knew she has not surrendered her virtue by choice, if only he knew she was an innocent. If only he knew he could never break her for she was not a weak pathetic rogue. She was the girl born with the power to summon the strongest known wolf in the world. She was the very soul referred to in the werewolf books of philosophy. She was none other than the summoner. The summoner of the death wolf.

Albert Meyer, a former fixer of a large underground crime syndicate, wants his name cleared from the roster. He can achieve it on the condition that he has to do one last job for his foster father. He contemplates the choices he has to make and it was going well—until someone dies on his watch. Now he has to make sure no more deaths occur as he tries to choose between his emotions or duty—even as an incoming Wedding threatens to put his mind into discomposure.

When Maya transfers to Raven High, all she wants is a fresh start not a fight with the school’s queen bee or an entanglement with the mysterious Zane Walker. But secrets don’t stay buried, and neither does the pain both teens carry. As whispers turn into scandals and stolen glances into heart-throbbing kisses, Maya and Zane find themselves caught in a dangerous game of love, lies, and survival. With enemies disguised as friends and a past that won’t stay silent, will their hearts survive the storm or will it tear them apart forever?

I marry Mason Longbright, my savior, at 24. For five years, Mason's erectile dysfunction and bipolar disorder keep us from ever sleeping together. He can't satisfy me when I want him, so he uses toys on me instead. But during his manic episodes, his touch turns into torment, leaving me bruised and broken. On my birthday night, I catch Mason in bed with another woman. Skin against skin, Mason drives into Amy Becker with a rough, ravenous urgency, his desire consuming her like a starving beast. Our friends and family are shocked, but no one is more devastated than I am. And when Mason keeps choosing Amy over me at home, I finally decide to let him go. I always thought his condition kept him from loving me, but it turns out he simply can't get it up with me at all. I book a plane ticket and instruct my lawyer to deliver the divorce papers. I am determined to leave him. To my surprise, Mason comes looking for me and falls to his knees, begging for forgiveness. But this time, I choose to treat myself better.

All along, I've been following a social media account that's dedicated to a couple sharing about their romance. It doesn't have a lot of followers, but the posts are all very heartwarming. The owner of the account records all the little details about his relationship with his girlfriend. They get into arguments over a plate of pasta before breaking into laughter and calling each other an overgrown child. They climb up the hill to hold each other under the sky full of stars, wishing they could make time pause at that very moment. Even though the owner of the account never reveals his face, I am always moved by the words he writes. The day before my wedding, the owner uploads a new post. "This marks the end of our ten-year relationship. From now on, she'll be his wife, and I'll only be his friend. There won't be any more updates to this account. I wish nothing but the best for my best friend and the woman he loves the most." The picture uploaded with this caption is one of my fiancee and me, taken from behind.

One day, shortly after I had experienced a miscarriage, Alan brought me a bowl of chicken soup—and a divorce agreement. "Sophia's pregnant," he had said. "So let's just leave each other like mature adults do." Chicken soup had never tasted so bitter in my life. I knew Sophia Mason—he had sponsored her education before. She was also the one who caused my miscarriage. I did not cry. I did not throw a fit. I just asked why. He looked relieved. Then, he looked at me blankly. "The truth is I can't stand you over these seven years. Every time we lie together on our bed, I just can't help but be disgusted by what your body has gone through. "I know you suffered that because of me. But I can't do it. I can't stop remembering how defiled it is. "Our kid is gone. We owe each other nothing now—so let's end it here, right now." So that was it, huh? Hilarious. He had no idea who the "defiled" one was—him. Seven years ago, I inserted a memory chip into his brain to save him. And now, in three days' time, the chip will cease to function. He will remember everything… and he will wish he were long dead.