Dumb Ways To Die Stupe Novels & Stories

Johnson ➡ Come on talk to me, what happened? . Zombie ➡ One of my niggers died last night, he was tortured and stuffed with Nightshade. I told him not to stick his nose but he refused to listen, now he's dead like a rat. . What was happening? People are dying and so far it shows they're being tortured before stuffing them with Nightshade, maybe he was spying on them to give the Big prize, this is bad news as far as I know three people have died because of this. I consoled Zombie and went into my room.

I paused mid-step and reached out to touch a nearby branch out of curiosity. “Don’t be dumb,” he snapped. “The acid’s poisonous. It burns through your skin, gets into your bloodstream, and—” he mimed an explosion with his hands. “Dead. Just like that. Although, I guess you’d first have to be the nincompoop who touched it in the first place.” “You could’ve just said it’s deadly,” I said, pulling my hand back. “Yeah, but I like seeing dumb people flinch. Keeps life interesting.”

I tilted my head to shove off violent ideas such as skinning that girl alive, burning her, drowning her in a pool of chemicals, detaching her fingers or her body parts, strangling her to death, and the worst part is, I want her to die after hitting her with a baseball bat simultaneously and throw her chopped bodies somewhere in the ocean. I went to buy a bottle of water and drunk it all at once. I wiped the sides of my lips. I bit my nails and leaned my head on the wall.

He steps off the stones and into the line of fire with no more hesitation than if he were crossing to refill my glass, and the bullet meant for me takes him in the left shoulder, the same shoulder Enzo was shot in two days before, and the symmetry of it hits me harder than the gunshot. The ledger drops. I catch him before he falls. My hands find his chest, his ribs, the wet heat spreading under my palms, and I lower him to the ground with a steadiness I do not feel. His blood comes away on my fingers, dark and resinous in the dusk light, and I think of the payroll sheets I transcribed in my first week, the purple ink that stained my fingertips the same color, the block letters that named eve

I stand up and step on Mom’s chest with my heel, “I can easily end your life right now with no remorse but Dad wont like it now will he?”, I move my heel closer to her neck, “I can just put a little effort killing you in seconds” I say and smile, “you know Mom, I have never seen a person dying in front of me, I think I will like it very much especially if it will be Stella dying” I go back to my chair and sit comfortably,

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."

Because I know all the others are heartless people and my words would never affect them. " Doing it or not ?", Kevin asks pulling my hair harder. I feel unbearable pain but still I shake my head No. " Just kill me. I'm not d..doing.", I say causing another punch to fall on my stomach. I take the pain without screaming and close my eyes tight. It's good if my life ends here in the hands of some jocks. I don't love my life. I don't wish to live any longer. It's better to die than living a life like this. I am pathetic, worthless, utterly friendless. I shall die.

Cold sweat instantly broke out all over my body. But the women were far from done. They ordered their bodyguards to pin me down. Shiloh picked up a pair of fireplace tongs, while Natalia kept pouring alcohol onto my wounds. I panicked in earnest. I did want to die, but I didn't want to be tortured to death! So, I struggled desperately. Suddenly, a wooden stick slammed hard into the back of my head. Blood streamed down my forehead. My body trembled, and I no longer had the strength even to scream. "Just… kill me…"

Tom shouted as my face was buried in the cushion. I couldn’t mutter anything I was drained of the remaining dignity I had. My mind kept thinking of ways I can kill myself. Poison, gunshot, stabbing, hanging, running into ongoing traffic, drowning, burning myself, drinking acid. The endless choices sounded more like paradise than the way I was being treated. I decided to close my eyes to think about paradise

Read me, stupid!