A 1000 Ways To Die Novels & Stories

The knockers at her door were there by the thousands, dribbling over one another, clambering for fresh bones to suck the marrow from. A generation of the dead looking for somewhere to die. Emily ran at them, bat— (machete) —raised. Her grunts were muffled by flying scalps, dried dust blood clouds. Her daughter’s present snapped jaws from necks, sent eyeballs flying into the sky in nightmarish home runs. Emily swung, over and over again, granting them all the relief they so desperately wanted, until she was doused red from head to toe. Her own private genocide.

Before I die, I'm taking you with me. Nathan's gaze flickered to the knife in her hand, and he gulped. "Let me go. I'll find the best doctors in the world to treat you." Trinity let out a hysterical laugh. "Too late. Go to hell." With that, she plunged the blade into his stomach and carved out both kidneys. I turned away, drifting out of the warehouse. I didn't dare look back. Nathan's agonized screams echoed in my ears. A single tear slipped down my cheek before it vanished into nothing.

That night, my storage room was still as cold, dark, and hopeless as ever. Eric would never come to a place like this. I didn’t toss and turn, unable to sleep anymore. Instead, I curled up tightly, gathering my strength to escape. At first light, I slipped out to the black market, trying to find a way to leave. I found a rough-looking broker. I traded a silver chain my mother had left me for a fake ID. As dusk fell, I left the little shop. I walked over to a bakery that was about to close, hoping to buy some day-old bread to fill my stomach.

I wanted to write something, but all I managed to type was a string of gibberish. Her second last post had been a photo of her and Randall holding glasses of red wine. The caption read, "Cheers to not spending 100 dollars on a cab." It was posted on the same day that Mom was killed, after the ransom deadline passed. Out of nowhere, I let out a hollow laugh that seemed to have been squeezed out of my chest by force. My fingers almost bore into the screen as I typed out, "That strapped for cash, huh? I'll give you an extra 200 dollars in the divorce, then. You don't need to thank me."

"Ten percent, Evelyn. Maybe fifteen if your heart stays strong through the first cycle. It won't cure you. But it could buy you an extra year. Maybe two." "An extra year," Arthur repeated, the words sounding massive in the quiet library. He walked over to the side of the sofa, looking down at her. "Evelyn, a year is... we can do a lot in a year." "A year of hospitals, Arthur," Evelyn said, her voice dropping to a whisper. She looked at her palette of paints sitting on the side table, the fresh blues and grays she had only just started to use. "A year of nausea and machines. I spent three years being a ghost in this house. I don't want to spend my last days being a ghost in a clinic in Switze

“Alright, obviously you are happy with your life. But for me, the possibility of alternative realities always makes me ponder, if I made a different choice back then, my life can somehow be better. Like what if my mom was right? What if I did sin? What if by making bad choices at that night ——like wear the skirt that night——I gave you ideas so you assaulted me. ” “You are reading too much into this, Miss Irwin. Never think about alternatives. Don’t glorify the shit that didn’t happen. ” I scoff. “For example, if you were born into a loving biological parent, sure, you probably would never have to deal with me. But still, you would have to deal with the other third-world bullshit. It’s always

It fell life a fantasy. I knew i had thing for danger since i was eighteen, when i almost ran my dads car over a cliff and felt nothing but freedom. My therapist then called it “risk seeking behavior”, over the years i tried to bury that part of me but Jagger could see through me. He looked at me like he knew every terrible thing inside me. I closed my eyes and leaned against the counter.

The sky was red with toxic mist, and the ground pulsed like living flesh. "The second is The Whispering Void. A psychological world. It attacks your mind directly, bypassing physical defenses entirely. It shows you your fears, your failures, your worst possible futures, and it makes them feel absolutely real. You'll experience every trauma you've ever suppressed, every nightmare you've tried to forget, every anxiety amplified to unbearable levels. Deadies have been known to go completely, irreversibly insane within minutes of entering. You'll need to cross it in four hours while maintaining your sanity and sense of direction in absolute darkness."

“You ok?” “Yeah. I just wanted to get a present for Russell.” “Giant cookie? Great gift idea. Nothing says ‘Proud of you’ like a cookie bigger than your head.” “Yeah. Well, I better go. We’re planning the event for my book launch.” “Last in the series, right? We finally find out what happened to Emily’s mother?” “Maybe. Felicity’s Books is doing preorders by the way. All signed.” “Already placed my order.”

I had to squeeze my legs shut to stop my panties from getting so wet. “I…I am okay.” I forced the words out of my mouth. I was far from okay. He reached out to wipe a single lone sweat from my forehead and I froze. A zap of electricity passed through my veins straight to my pussy and my mouth hung open, a sound threatening to spill out. Holy shit!!! “Your body is hot.” Killian frowned, dropped his phone by his side and scooted closer to me. I gasped and shifted close to the door. Oh, how I wish I could just enter the door and disappear forever!!