Worth Dying For Novel Novels & Stories

I was dead. So, a fire was lit, starting right from the master bedroom of the Miller estate. Scorching heat rushed over Ethan, the bright flames illuminating his pale face. He didn’t run or call for help. He just stood there, pulling out the very knife he had once confiscated from my hands and driving it into his own neck. As blood splattered everywhere, the red glow of the fire burst into the sky. Just like that, everything was burned to ashes and wiped away. At that point, the tragic webnovel written by the AI had officially come to an end.

And finally his tight hug each time she get to have one. She shut her eyes and shifted to her wolf. She howled to the moon, pouring her sorrow out. She didn't hold back, soon Nathan joined and all the wolves are howling for the lost of their hero. When he was among them, they never acknowledged him, they treated him like the east favourite slave. Now he was gone, their heart grieved for him. Even in death sadness was his last expression. Hello guys! Usually this book is on wattpad. But here it is. I'm glad it made it to good novel. I hope you,re enjoying it. If so. Follow me on twitter. @Oluna151

I stood there for hours, praying to die. Until my neighbor, Mr. Collins, came in the morning to look for Jack. I don't remember exactly what happened. I remember waking up the next day in the hospital. I hated the fact that I was still alive and Jack didn't. I wanted to die more than anything. They had killed my whole life. One shot changed everything. One night changed my life completely. It took more than 6 months before I was able to shake off the incident. I had nightmares every night.

Nena exclaimed when Linus fell and was pinned by his opponent. The feeling of disappointment echoed the club as Linus can't make a move. His opponent tangled him on his neck, strangling him into death. I compose myself as people on our side stood up… waiting for how Linus to escape from his opponent’s grips. I turned my gaze away from it. I hate to see how he lost the fight. Guilt fills in when I just remember what I wished before the fight starts. Nena suddenly held my hand and her long nails stapled on my skin. I push her hand to loosen her grip.

Wendy Whenever I've pictured my death, it always had something to do with lying in bed, old and feeble, my grandkids gathered around me. That, or I figured I'd go out in a car accident like both of my parents. I certainly didn't see myself leaping from a tower, holding the hand of a vampire, while people who want to kill us simply for existing nip at our heels. Alec seems so confident that we wouldn’t drop to our deaths. That, somehow, we would—what? Float into the sky?

“Thriller, mystery, nonfiction. But Midnight is a mix of—" “Fantasy, mystery, thriller, romance, and magic.” I put the book back on the coffee table. “Yes. The ending is just frustrating. I mean, he died for nothing.” “Excuse me?” As an author, I was offended. He laughed when he saw my reaction. “He didn’t die for nothing. His death was a pivotal moment that could start a revolution amongst the people who still believed in him. The start of a resistant movement against the empire.” He said nothing but smiled at me. It made me self-conscious that he may know something about me, but chose to keep it.

“Now I really understand how it feels to know a person is about to leave this world, how painful it is, without a shred of hope, it engulfs everything, now I understand why Anh Duong didn't say anything. the truth about my illness, don't let me by your side to take care of you in the last days of your life, in fact, you know it hurts like this, that's why I escaped from you alone and endured the pain in America, I feel myself I'm so sorry, I'll probably never forget this pain for the rest of my life." The feelings in my heart could not be hidden anymore, I hugged Phong and drowned in tears, saying all the feelings in my heart, to ease the guilt but there was no way to soothe it. I understand

' (1506-1971) I cover my face behind this journal as I shed the weight of my chest. Ruth embraces me while rubbing my back—regretting that she revealed the journal to me at the moment I have to be pretty. She says, "He died in this house. He was laying on your bed while waiting for you at his old age and the loneliness made him weaker. But he was assassinated by a werewolf hunter." And I hugged her back, there are no other shoulders available but hers.

Woods said a quick, silent prayer, hoping that the big southern girl didn’t freeze her ass off on her way up to the Pearly Gates. Thirty simple seconds tick-tocked on by, and despite the electric crackle of expectancy in the air, Mama Metcalf remained well and truly dead. Even her blood had stopped flowing, ruby diamonds on a cigarette-butt strewn patch of land. The old woman across from her, Wanda Mabry, would also never move again. Her index finger was curved inwards as though still depressing an invisible trigger that shot invisible bullets of hatred at a sky that would never die. Sirens sung in the distance. When the hospice alarm was activated an automatic call out was prompted to the f

At that exact moment, aboard a private jet already hundreds of miles away, a shrill warning sound suddenly rang in Lucien’s ear. [Warning! Warning! The novel’s female protagonist has died. World collapse is imminent.] Lucien’s eyes widened in shock.