A 1000 Ways To Die Novels & Stories

********* Two days later. Cara's POV I am feeling everything at once, but in the same time, nothing at all. My inside feels heavy yet light. I am cold, I am so cold. I can feel myself breathing, I feel the air push in and out of my lungs, I can feel my heart beating, pumping against my rib cage. I am alive, I know that I am alive but a part of me dies as they lower the casket into the ground. The coffin is dark stained cherry and it is perfectly polished. It has a cushioned and a silky lining. I want to touch it, will they let me touch it? I want to open it and see him one last time, would they let me do that?

"One thousand." OmO

I took a deep breath and tried typing the words. Just type anything Kath, don't stop. Yes just type, ignore the errors, just write. Just let the words out. Then I stopped when I suddenly felt my hand got tired. I checked the word count and it was already four hundred and fifty. Atleast. “Tim, are you still alive there?” I asked but my focus is still on the screen with my hands busy hitting the keys. “ He died.” “Who?” I replied. “ I wonder why authors love killing their characters.”

Because he knew in advance that death would come to him, he was unafraid to observe this strange place calmly. It is a room with four white painted walls, no windows on the walls, and nothing in the room except a bed. He stared at the closed gray iron door and waited for the arrival of the Red Leafs. When those people appeared, he knew he would have to face the worst of his short life.

I didn't receive any messages or notifications that my follow request had been approved. I sat down and looked at myself in a handheld mirror. I watched as the numbers above my head slowly counted down. I had three hours to go. I wanted them to be with me on my last day in this life; I wanted to know how they would react when I died. Maybe they would be pleasantly surprised—no one cared about my life or death, after all. They were my family, but they despised me with every fiber of their being. I brought the food to the table and waited. Some oil had splashed onto my hand while cooking, and it hurt. It didn't take away from my excitement, though.

I hadn't relied on anyone or borrowed someone else's spotlight. After completing my studies, I was hired as a professor at one of the top universities in my home country of Shynear. Before returning to Shynear to teach, I decided to go on a trip around the world. Along the way, I traveled to many countries and saw many unforgettable landscapes. It wasn't until I received a call from Jessica while in the country of Appali that I learned that Carl had passed away. He accidentally tripped over a stone while on the way home after a bout of excessive drinking, hit his head, and never regained consciousness.

"Fine. If you haven't figured it out yet, take your time. We'll be at the same university—four years should be plenty for you to come to your senses." I frowned and said, "I applied to another school." At that moment, his phone rang, drowning out my words. When he glanced at the caller ID, his face softened. He answered; his voice became gentle. "Lina? What's wrong?" Even from where I stood, I could hear her tremulous cries through the handset. "Thor, I'm being harassed by some thugs. They're forcing me to drink. I'm at the Last Drop Bar. Come quickly." Thor's expression snapped into panic. He turned and started to leave, murmuring reassurances into the phone as he went. "Don't be afraid. I'

Day Eleven. The fiftieth floor of the Vane Building smelled of fresh paint, cold espresso, and absolute freedom. I stood in the center of the expansive, open-concept floor plan of Orion Strategies. The walls were floor-to-ceiling glass, offering a panoramic, dizzying view of the city’s financial district. The furniture was sleek, minimalist, and bone-white. There was no mahogany. There was no cedar. There was not a single trace of Silas Sterling in my new empire.

I pretended not to notice. Only an idiot would turn that down. Valerie walked over to me. "Give me your PayPal account." I had no idea what she was planning, but I obediently gave her the account number anyway. A few moments later, my phone chimed with a pleasant notification sound. [PayPal transfer received: 5,000,000 dollars.] I froze in shock. How much? Five million was an astronomical figure to someone like me. Valerie looked at me calmly. "If it's not enough, tell me and I'll send more."

I tried to slam the door, but a reporter jammed it open. "Ms. Madison, did you have postpartum depression after giving birth?" "Have you been reading too many switched-at-birth stories?" "Why are you so obsessed with DNA tests that you're draining your savings?" The questions kept coming. I said nothing. I glanced at Wesley. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. But as they kept talking, his face hardened, turning more and more indignant. So he called them. After all this time, he'd hit his limit.