What Motivates The Death Note Main Character To Use The Book?

Coraline Hart was a typical young woman for those looking at her from the outside. She went to work at a café, paid her bills, and was never seen without a smile on her face. But no one was to know the true horrors of what Coraline was forced to endure behind closed doors. To deal with his pain, her father went to the bottle and spent most of his time off his face with drink to forget his feelings. Due to his alcoholism, he can never hold down a job, and whatever money he does have, he drinks away. Causing Coraline to give him all of hers, knowing the dangers of what he could do if she were to say no. She had accepted this was her life now, going to work and giving all her money to her father, but that was until her saviour, in the form of a man in a very well-pressed suit with slicked-back hair and the thickest Spanish accent, walked into her café. This mysterious man soon becomes infatuated with this woman, who had unknowingly saved him the day they met; to him, it proved she was his and no other person was to cross her. But his infatuation was soon about to turn deadly; any man that he deemed too close to his Coraline soon slipped away without any hassle. When a police officer comes into the café and shreds some light on the man she was seeing, her world comes crumbling down. But for the mysterious man with the thick Spanish accent, he can never let go of his new obsession. Read on to find out how this simple interaction between two complete strangers became deadly.

My sister leaves some last words before committing suicide, and everyone who sees those words die. My grandmother is the first to go, and then my father. In the end, even my mother jumps off a 30-story building. The reporters fall over themselves trying to score an interview with me, and the police interrogate me. Countless people want to know what my sister's last words are. However, I keep my silence until my sister's tenth death anniversary. I see a figure before her grave, and I'm agitated beyond imagination. I know it's time for death to take me.

"Hello Evie, it's been a long time..." His deep sexy voice still made her tremble but she tried her best to remain calm. His eyes stared at her beauty like he wanted to devour her. "Mr. Wayne. " She nodded. Tried so hard not to show her trembling hand and shook his big hand. "Mr. Wayne, huh? It's always been, baby to you..." He grinned. Showed the perfect teeth on his handsome face. God. Why she had to meet him of all presidents that owns a company?! Evangeline got an e-mail for job interview as a secretary in a big company in the country. The interview went smoothly and she was accepted. Of course the beautiful young woman was delighted. But the HRD told her, the president was really ill and his son, the one and only heir would take his place. And that heir was Alexander Wayne. That was also her ex. Her psycho ex that was obsessed with her. Her heart. Her mind. Her body. Will she escape his unbearable love? Or accept his true nature and obsession for her? Warning! This book is full with violent and disturbing scenes! Please consider it first before reading!

A serial killer targeted me. My sister-in-law was assaulted and murdered while trying to save me. Not only did I refuse to call the police, I pushed my father-in-law and mother-in-law down a flight of stairs when they came to help. I even helped the killer destroy the evidence. When my husband learned that his entire family got killed, he broke down in tears. He grabbed me by the collar and demanded, "Why? Why would you do this?" I deliberately waved photographs of his family's gruesome deaths in front of him and burst into laughter. "Why?" I sneered. "Because they deserved it." My parents begged me to cooperate so I wouldn't be sentenced to death. Instead, I publicly severed all ties with them. Meanwhile, the murderer who escaped justice struck again, claiming another victim. As public outrage reached its peak, I was selected for the Memory Extraction Program. Before the sentence was carried out, my husband asked me one final time, "The Memory Extraction System is still a prototype. You could die during the procedure. "Tell us the truth now, and there's still a chance to make things right." I slowly raised my head to look at him. "You're not getting a single word out of me." The crowd instantly erupted. People shouted that a worthless life like mine deserved to die. But when my memories were finally extracted, they were the ones crying and begging someone to save me.

On the day before the college entrance assessment, my three childhood friends have gone missing collectively. Because of that, my phone is swamped with phone calls. The parents of my missing friends keep wailing to me, "We've worked so hard our entire lives just so our sons can get into a great university!" My homeroom teacher, Mr. Levinski, begins pressuring me. "You're the class president, so you must find them! The college entrance assessment is a vital event that can determine how one's future will turn out!" Even my classmates and my neighbors keep texting me for more updates. But what they don't know is that I've already hung up on my friends' phone calls for help by using my revision for the assessment as an excuse. In my previous life, my childhood friends had already gotten bewitched by Lucille Reyes, a delinquent. They insisted on celebrating their coming-of-age ceremony at a nightclub because of her. I accidentally overheard Lucille plotting with her delinquent friends that they intended on taking nudes of my friends and extort money from them so that they couldn't attend the college entrance assessment the next day. So, I did everything I could to stop my friends, only to get kicked to the side. "Don't stop us from pursuing true love!" For the sake of my friends' future, I informed their families at once and had them brought into the exam venue by force. Finally, all three of my childhood friends got into prestigious universities. But Lucille, on the other hand, got beaten to death by the delinquents because she couldn't pay her protection fees due to her scheme getting foiled. My friends broke down mentally because of her death. They then decided to pin the blame on me. On our freshman year, my friends treated me to some drinks out of "gratitude", only for them to spike my drink. Later on, they tossed me to the same group of delinquents, who violated me in an alley. They even had the gall to record everything from the alleyway while keeping an eye out for the police. Thanks to them, my future was completely ruined. My parents committed suicide out of despair. To rub salt onto my wound, those friends showed up at the hospital with the video and backed me into a corner once again. "You owe Lucy this much!" In my despair, I ended up jumping off the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the college entrance assessment. As I watch my friends excitedly discussing the nightclub party behind my back, I can't help but smile. In this lifetime, I choose to lock my door and sign the guaranteed admission agreement meant for Mephton University, the most prestigious university ever, without any hesitation. As for my so-called friends, they can enjoy their coming-of-age ceremony in hell.

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.