Dog Suicide Bridge Novels & Stories

he chuckled. Acknowledging his engagement in the topic she smiled back but then frowned and continued, "The Bridge had no issues at all until that one incident... which was followed by other tragic incidents." "What happened!?" this time he asked in a serious tone. "One of the construction workers fell during the construction and landed into the wet cement under the bridge. Remember, this happened when it was getting constructed. You can imagine the bad reputation of the bridge at that time because of this incident. After this tragic casualty, even more, deaths were recorded. People started using the bridge as their means for suicide. Then..."

Lucien said. "Where?" "I don't know." "Then stop letting him." Lucien swerved left. The SUV followed. He swerved right. The SUV followed. He drove toward the river. The SUV followed. --- The bridge appeared ahead. Brooklyn Bridge. Iconic. Floodlit. Empty at this hour. Lucien accelerated. The SUV accelerated. "We're not going to make it," Elena said. "We're going to make it." "The bridge is narrow." "The bridge is wide enough."

"You forgot that you already handed over your company to me?" Valdo's words kept ringing in Hana's head, making Hana's steps unstable, along the red bridge that stretched long. This bridge is known for its reputation as a bridge that people often use to end their lives. Because of its reputation, many people avoid walking on this bridge alone. Moreover, the news often circulates that there are many ghost sightings on this bridge. But unlike other people who tend to avoid this bridge, Hana really likes this bridge.

only motives were as queer as the room montoya was in. she would figure this out alone. this was some what of an evidence, whatever they ment by it. a boy reading about the arrest of various people who had attempted faking their deaths(because the list went on) , all of a sudden dies too by jumping the London bridge--goddmanit, the Patriot bridge , on a stormy night. and Vergil doesn't believe it's a fishy attempt. thanking Mrs Cain and in an attempt of leaving, Damaris grabbed at her at the door, pulled her inside to slam it shut behind her.

“PART ONE: Boarding “Men’s courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead . . . ” —Charles Dickens” ONE HUNDRED AND THREE: James Bridge “We have two cemeteries and no hospitals—so drive carefully”, read the sign coming into James Bridge. The population at the time was marked at a firm 2022. Outsiders built homes in its vacant lots, leaving neighbors scratching their heads, wondering what spell The Bridge cast over those not born there. Surrounded by vineyards and two hours northwest of Sydney, it was a highway town passed through on the way to somewhere better.

"I sincerely apologize on behalf of the hospital. Transportation has been arranged to take you all to the Southford branch to see your children." The parents rushed toward the buses, eager to get on. Malcolm and Christine looked shaken. They tried to slip away in the chaos. I stepped in front of them, blocking their path, my eyes flicking over their expressions. "Seeing is believing. Since you've been so sure I'm the one who did it, that I faked the video, why don't you come with me and see for yourselves? See how the children who were supposed to die in that fire are still alive."

I hadn't noticed Oliver entering the kitchen. “What's going on here? What's all this commotion?” “Sorry, sir, I was just talking to Aurora about some news I saw.” “And what serious news is this, that made both of you stop working?” “A man committed suicide on the bridge that connects the capital to São Caetano village.” Oliver froze for a few seconds. He seemed just as surprised as I was, since I was still in shock. I couldn't believe that the man I had seen that night had gone back to the bridge and done what I thought I had prevented.

She was puffy-eyed, terrified—and for good reason. “K-Kirill!” the little snake squealed when she saw me and tried to lunge forward, but the guys held her by the elbows. “Why are you doing this?!” Unbelievable. I just stared at this idiot in silence, then jerked my chin, signaling the guys to drag the rat toward the middle of the bridge. The Kryukivsky Bridge—an excellent local landmark and a favorite spot among certain suicidal personalities. It was already deep night, and we had temporarily blocked off the road from both sides.

"But I'll regret it even more if I don't do this. If I let you live. If I let you hurt anyone else ever again." "You stupid, ungrateful—" "Rot in hell, Mother." I pull the trigger. The silencer muffles the sound to a soft pfft. Bridget's eyes widen. Her hand goes to her chest where blood is already blooming across her coat. She staggers backward. And falls into the river with a splash. I stand there, watching as the current pulls her body under. Watching as she disappears beneath the dark water. I wait until I can't see her anymore.

“He’s dead.” Everything in me stopped. My breath, my heart, my thoughts. “What?” Swallowing thickly, Officer Bridge picked up again. “Ma’am, your husband was murdered in a car by gunshots fired at the car multiple times. I’m afraid he didn’t make it.” The world tilted and folded in on itself. My voice felt like it belonged to someone else as I stepped aside. “Please, come in.” They come in but didn’t sit. They just stand in the middle of the room that still smelled like Ben's cologne and sweet crêpes scented ointment.