Die Inside Novels & Stories

Subject: IWantToDieDaintyCastillio Message: Hello, my name is Dainty Castillo, female, and I am 22 years old. My address is 1234 Juan Street, Dos City. I wish to die for financial reasons. I’d like to acquire enough money to compensate my family for the losses they’ve suffered because of my actions. I murdered my entire family. I submitted my message as soon as I finished filling out the form. All I have to do now is wait for them to respond. I’m not sure whether Live Suicide is true, but nothing is stopping me from trying because I have nothing to lose.

Death offers nothing to admire, be it the pale skin of the corpse, the stiff joints, the cloudy eyes, the dilated pupils, the decomposed skin, or the white maggots wriggling around. However, taking someone's life, the process of turning something alive into something dead, stealing that divine power, is what drives people insane. When the final shovel of dirt is thrown, it's as if she has buried the hesitant, wavering human beneath the deep pit. The respectful driver with his hands behind his back stood solemnly waiting for him to enter. Alexandra Dhara, with his hand, expressed her desire to enter first, in a very natural and gentle manner.

Tragedy Romance | Dubcon | Grief | Power Imbalance | Explicit Trigger Warnings: Dubious consent, grief-based emotional manipulation, explicit sexual content, rough handling, dominance/submission themes. . . . The rain was biblical...sheets of it blurring the mountain road, drowning the headlights. She should’ve stayed home. But Vesper Wynne didn’t know how to sit still anymore. Not since her sister died. She wasn’t watching the curves as she should’ve been, and by the time the second turn came, it was too late.

Thing that caused Death Compiler to rage. "What escaped? How did she escape? And why did she do that? I thought she wanted to die so she committed suicide and broke my list! Now she merged with the others? Humans are so demented! " In her anger the whole room really shook as if things will not last long from the very strong presence of the Death Compiler.

"Everyone always said you were born cursed. Just like that psychic said, you'd be the one to ruin me and keep me from what was rightfully mine. Even after they sent you away, I was still terrified. You not being dead is my nightmare every single night." Melody looked like a madwoman. "Later, I found that psychic again," she spat. "He was nothing but a fraud. My parents paid him well, so he pretended to be clever and made up a bunch of rubbish. But I wasn't satisfied. You deserved to die. I got this statue from him. He told me that if I stuffed a person's birth data and hair into it, I could burn that person's life away and make it serve me. So what if I copied your designs, Charlotte? It's a

How would I look if I am inside a coffin, imagining Tim looking at my dead body, and imagining me- how I would die. Overthinking Number 1: Everytime I heard words like " I'm scared to lose you", or " Please promise me you'll stay", I want to runaway and punish myself til' death. I don't want them to get frightened if time will come I will depart. It's just...they deserve a life. Even without me. And I don't want them to mourn when I left- I want them to continue living life chasing their dreams even when I am not breathing anymore. Then it suddenly shift to this:

A book is open as a triggering start where HE glances quick and cunningly smiles, starting with the words and the introduction. “DEATH REINCARNATE.” Titled, or perhaps just a random word that pops from HIS mind. The listener draws a sinister smile as it hides the very lust eyes its gazes towards the book it’s reading and started. Still playing as the ambiance set the mood. HE continues.

She then looked at at him as she exclaimed, "How dare you!" "It's your surname though!" She slapped his arm and for a moment he lost control of the car but quickly recovered. "Shit..." Ashleigh breathed out as Damien chuckled nervously. "Sorry." "I swear if I died I would've killed you!" "How would you do that when you're dead?" "I'll possess you and make you commit suicide." Damien gave her a look. "Thats dark woman." "I love you too."

There, right beside my husband Brandon in the photo, was my so-called best friend, Melissa. … Snapping out of it, I stared at Melissa's two-faced expression. She must have known about the lottery win by then. They had probably plotted the whole thing, faking his death to pocket the cash. "Noelle, don't take it so hard. You're already unwell. What if Brandon's death makes you worse?" I shrugged off Melissa's hand and asked with eerie calm, "Where's Brandon's body? I want to see him." Melissa blinked, thrown off by my composure. "In the ward," she stammered.

Layla's fans sang her praises, saying that she was kind, beautiful, and the best sister in the world. It was raining on the day they cremated my remains. Layla carried the urn containing my ashes and pretended to shed a few tears. I moved toward her. Then, I tried to punch and kick Layla to try and get her hands off me. It was so revolting. Everything about this world sickened me. I dropped to the ground after having exhausted myself. Then, I watched as they put me inside a small box. The words, "Our dearest daughter, Hazel Larson", could be seen on the rectangular tombstone. How ironic.