Quotes About Adventure

To celebrate Halloween, our company booked an immersive “rural horror” escape room. My boss said whoever could make it to the end without screaming would get a ten-thousand-dollar reward. As a seasoned horror movie fan, I was instantly tempted. The core character in the escape room was a scarecrow wearing an oversized pumpkin head. I admired how well the props were made, but the chainsaw noise was too loud, so I slipped into a hidden compartment, put on my headphones, and scrolled through reels. The next day, I woke up to a strong metallic stench mixed with the sickly-sweet smell of rotting pumpkin. The police told me our boss had canceled the booking at the last minute, and the actor originally assigned to play the character had gotten food poisoning. That pumpkin-headed figure wasn’t one of their staff.

I sell burritos in a horror game. All the ghosts would come to my place and buy a tasty burrito after they got off work. That was until one day, my ex-husband, who was obsessed with abusing me, joined the game as a player. He brought a group of people to my store and trashed the place. They ruined all the ingredients I had. When the Bosses finished their overtime and saw their pre-ordered burritos on the ground in pieces, their eyes became dark, and they were immediately infuriated. The Patchwork Monster was so angry that the stitches on its body were beginning to break. It started ripping the players apart. The Eight-Armed Maiden’s hair fanned out and pierced many players. The Wedding Dress Maiden suddenly became a giant and started eating the players one by one. The Bosses were willing to work overtime and maintain the operations of the dungeons overnight just so that they could have a burrito. That night, all the players were sleeping when they were forced to join a horror game.

I was the ultimate pick-me girl at the office, and somehow, I ended up inside a horror game before New Year's Eve. Seeing the bloody lady crawling in the dark elevator, I screamed out loud. "Oh my gosh! Where did you get that lipstick? It's perfect! It makes your skin look three shades lighter!" The bloody lady blinked at me in confusion as I helped her up. She even recommended the exact lipstick shade. Then I turned around and came face-to-face with the chainsaw-psycho general manager with multiple personalities, swinging his weapon around. I tied a little bow on his chainsaw. "Everyone else only cares if your chainsaw is sharp. I'm the only one who cares if you're tired from swinging it all day." The monsters in the room looked at each other, all thinking the same thing… Why did this feel weirdly wholesome?

Les Hommes-Bêtes étaient réputés pour leur force guerrière. Pour consolider le pouvoir de notre clan, mon père nous a offertes, ma demi-sœur Anaïs Moineau et moi, en mariage aux deux de ces peuples. Dans ma vie antérieure, Anaïs avait épousé le roi des Dragons, dont la richesse rivalisait avec celle de toutes les autres races réunies, tandis que j'avais été contrainte de m'unir au clan démuni des Lions. Le roi des Dragons, Gaylord Dieulafoy, homme froid et impassible, ne vivait que pour ses ambitions, négligeant complètement Anaïs. Rongée par la solitude, elle avait séduit le jeune maître volage des Renards. Leur adultère avait été découvert, et Gaylord l'avait répudiée. Notre famille en était couverte de honte. Sous la pression, notre père, pourtant si indulgent envers elle, avait dû la chasser. En revanche, Brice Gardet, le roi des Lions, était dévoué et passionné. Notre union était heureuse et, en moins d'un an, j'avais mis au monde des enfants, dotés de pouvoirs divins. Grâce à ça, Brice était devenu le souverain de tous les clans des Hommes-Bêtes, et moi, sa reine. Mais la jalousie d'Anaïs avait tout détruit. Le jour de la fête pour le premier anniversaire de mon enfant, elle l'avait étranglé, puis avait mis le feu à ma demeure pour m'y brûler vive. Quand j'ai rouvert les yeux, nous étions de retour au jour des alliances. Cette fois, Anaïs a exigé d'épouser Brice, me « cédant » ainsi Gaylord. Je l'ai accepté. Dotée d'une dot dix fois moindre que la sienne, j'ai épousé Gaylord. Par la suite ? Anaïs a épuisé toute sa dot à soutenir le Lion, et son incapacité à procréer l'a contrainte à s'accoupler avec d'autres Hommes-Bêtes. Moi qui n'aspirais qu'à un enfant et une existence paisible après la tragédie de ma vie précédente, j'ai dû faire face à une autre réalité : pourquoi mon mari, réputé froid et abstinent, me réclamait-il sans cesse depuis notre nuit nuptiale ? Et pourquoi personne ne m'avait avertie que les Dragons possédaient deux pénis… tous deux épineux ?

Lorsque je suis allée refaire le certificat de liaison conjugale, l'agent du service administratif m'a annoncé : « Votre ancien certificat de liaison est un faux. Nous n'avons aucune trace de votre enregistrement ici. » Je n'en croyais pas mes oreilles et j'ai insisté : « Sébastien et moi sommes pourtant officiellement liés depuis cinq ans… Comment est-ce possible ? Pouvez-vous vérifier à nouveau, s'il vous plaît ? » Cyrille a compulsé une seconde fois nos dossiers et a conclu : « Les documents de l'Alpha Sébastien sont bien là… Mais selon nos archives, son partenaire officiel n'est pas vous. » Ma voix s'est brisée : « Qui, alors ? » « Lorie. » Sa réponse était nette. À ce nom, j'ai serré le dossier de la chaise jusqu'à blêmir, luttant pour ne pas m'effondrer. Avant que Cyrille ne prononce le nom de Lorie, j'espérais encore une erreur. Mais maintenant, tout prenait un sens terriblement cohérent. Lorie… n'était autre que l'amie d'enfance de Sébastien ! À cet instant, tant de choses trouvaient enfin une explication : ces cinq années passées comme son partenaire, sans qu'il ne me marque jamais. Notre cérémonie de liaison, cinq ans plus tôt, n'avait été qu'une mascarade. J'avais tout abandonné pour lui, croyant à un bonheur possible. Mais ces cinq années de « félicité » n'étaient qu'une illusion, soigneusement fabriquée par lui. Puisque rien de tout cela ne m'appartenait vraiment… il était temps de partir...

It was the night before my best mate’s wedding—his bachelor party, we made a deal to get blind drunk, but I arrived late. When I opened the door, I was not met with cheers, but with three corpses stalled in motion. My body went limp as my mind went blank. The only thought left in my head was that I had to call the police. “I’m calling from Block 3, Unit 301 of Silkwood Gardens. My three friends are all dead!” On the other end of the line, a female police officer responded calmly, “Please stay calm and don’t touch anything. Keep the crime scene untouched. A team will arrive shortly.” This should have been a night of wild debauchery, but I was the only one left alive. I slowly ducked my head and smiled.

I have spent ten years fighting against the fake heiress, Cynthia Powell, to secure the Powell family's inheritance. Eventually, we both set our sights on the eldest son of the wealthy Wright family, Robin Wright. In my first life, I secure the marriage, but on the very night the shares are transferred to my name, I die a gruesome death. Blood seeps from my eyes and mouth as I collapse. As I lie there dying, Robin calmly wipes the poisonous powder from his fingertips and smiles at me. "My apologies, Kathy Powell. You have to die for the sake of the woman I truly love." I repeatedly curse Cynthia in my heart. In my second life, I am determined to avoid being murdered by Cynthia and her lover. So, I pass the marriage opportunity over to Cynthia. On their wedding day, I'm relaxing at home with a face mask when the police burst through my door and handcuff me. "Cynthia's car was firebombed on the way to the wedding ceremony, and she was burned to a crisp. We found your fingerprints on the fuel tank. You're under arrest for arson and murder. Please come with us," the police orders. The news shocks me. I'm sentenced to death, all thanks to Robin's manipulation. When I wake up, I'm in my third life. After seeing the Wright family's marriage proposal on the table, Cynthia and I take a step back. A chill runs down both our spines. Robin is a curse. How is it that whoever marries him ends up dead?

On my way to a meeting at work, I call my daughter, who is at home. Instead, I hear a voice identical to mine over the phone. She claims that she is me three years in the future. "Dezarae, go home to Liv right now. Your daughter is in danger." I am stunned. I argue in disbelief and question who is behind this prank. When I step on the accelerator, she stops me sternly. "Do not drive ahead any further. There will be a traffic accident at the intersection where Peace Street is." In the next second, at the intersection that is less than 30 feet away from me, two cars collide. Cold sweat starts to trickle down my back when the woman with a voice identical to mine says, "Liv will fall off a building and die in three hours. This is your only chance to save her."

The year I hit rock bottom, I got sucked into a game. The rule was to survive a week on 50 dollars, and the winner would walk away with one million dollars. Everyone else was desperate to win, but I was the only one trying to escape. What they did not know was that I was the previous round's winner, and killing me meant they could steal my 500 million dollars.

My coworkers and I are forcibly dragged into a bizarre game with the initial title displayed as "War of the Plants". Everyone crowds around to choose camps or safe houses with abundant water resources. I am the only one who picks a plastic apartment in the desert with no water or electricity. My female supervisor mocks me in front of everyone, saying I must be out of my mind. No one is willing to team up with me, and they even bet I won't last three days. When choosing abilities, everyone rushes for practical powers like spatial storage or metal control. I, however, choose reverse photosynthesis that allows me to gain energy from air humidity. Everyone immediately mutes me in the game. Clearly, no one wants to hear my desperate cries for help later. But when the system revokes team permissions and administrator functions, everyone is stunned. The game's name is reset to "Magnet Apocalypse".