Four Or Dead Novels & Stories

were bodies. All dead.

Nova said, and Celia nodded, stopping when she remembered originally, their team was one of four. "What happened to the other lady? Did she get captured? I can make up a team real quick to-" "Thank you Celia but that won't be needed. She died saving us." Jonathan replied, and his voice sounded thick, as if he struggled not to let the tears out. Celia nodded, feeling a wave of sadness hit her. She was all too familiar with death, but even she knew it was a devastating blow, especially when it was someone she was use to seeing every day.

None of them good. People below were moving toward what looked like a long counter at the far wall. Metal trays clattered as they lined up — food distribution, maybe? Others lounged on their bunks like they’d accepted this as their new life. They all had numbers on their chests too — different ones, from what I could see. 0497, 0415, 0489, 0520… How many people were here? “So,” he said suddenly, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “how did you die, Leah?”

"I think you lot are misunderstanding something here. What we're here to do. We're not here to kill her. We're here to bring her to Death." Eros's eyes widened. No. That couldn't be what he was talking about. "When you say death with such emphasis, you're saying that as a person, aren't you?" Ruby smiled. "That's it. We're here to take her to one of the Four Great Horsemen. The Horsemen of Death."

It was clear, well-lit, and taken somewhere I've never come across. Four men stood, side by side, none facing the camera. Even though they weren't facing the camera, you could see what needed to be seen. One face. Four times. It was Drey, but not Drey. My brain and eyes didn't know how to put it at first. It felt like I was seeing Drey in four different faces. They look exactly the same but in different appearances. Like I was staring at the four shades of Drey. My hand started shaking before I felt it happening. The phone trembled in my grip but Victoria reached out and took it back, carefully, like she was removing something fragile from someone who couldn't be trusted with it.

The smell of lilies was always the first thing to return. It was the scent of my own funeral, a cloying sweetness that made me want to gag. I opened my eyes and didn't move. I didn't breathe. I just counted the cracks in the gold-leaf ceiling of the ducal bedchamber. One, two, three... I knew them all. I had memorized them while gasping my last breath in Life Four. I had stared at them while my vision went black in Life Seven.

I let my claws comes out. Just as I’m about to kill these imposters, I hear a fourth person walking up. “Hello, brother. I assumed you were dead.”

The enemies ahead were indeed becoming more formidable. "These people work for Finn!" Charles immediately recognized the four people on each side—all of them were Finn's subordinates. "They only sent four people; are they looking down on the Shadowers?" a member of the Shadowers muttered. Charles retorted quickly, "But don't underestimate these four. They make robots, and the robots they design are dangerous and extremely strong. So these people are also called the 'Four Living Reapers'." "I didn't expect people in Easton to know so much about us!"

I didn’t imagine the voice. It was as clear as day, as loud as if she were standing right next to me. And even though my mind is doubting it, my heart knows for a fact that it was her. Except she’s dead. …Right? Or is she “dead” in the same way Headmaster Stroud suspects my father is dead? Meaning, alive somewhere. “Come on,” Alec whispers. He leads the way out of the bush, and we peek around the pool house’s corner. The coast is clear.

To help her childhood sweetheart, David Middleton, take my place studying abroad, my wife, Sharon Griffin, destroys my records and deliberately fills in false information, ensuring that I'm permanently denied a visa. She even severely injured my hands before sending me to the Behavioral Reform Center. My mother-in-law, Paula Brown, who has always treated me with affection, takes Sharon's side. "Kyle is so ungrateful. We gave him everything, and he still wanted to get a PhD abroad to find his biological parents. Who's going to take care of me if he's gone?" Sharon snorts. "He's just vain. When he found out I'd turned down Westbridge's offer of admission, he gave me the silent treatment an