Someone Will Die Of Fun Novels & Stories

Fiona said calmly. "We all know we are going to die at the age of 30 anyway so why fear death? If we're gonna die then we should harm these monsters enough to satisfy the fire inside us before dying." She blurted out and the brown-eyed guy chuckled while the other blinked at her horrified by her idea. Fiona glanced at the smiling guy. "What's so funny?" She muttered, getting annoyed by his behavior. "Not funny. It just feels good to know that there's some hope left in our kind," He said and her interest was piqued instantly.

They were ranting in Italian about some random dude named Dickens making me a bit calm until they said something about his five years old child. "È stato divertente vedere il bambino morire dissanguato" The sluggish man seating close to me chuckled dryly. [It was fun to see the baby bleed to death] No way! They didn't just mean watching a five-year-old girl bleed to death in front of her father for fun! That was messed up! Even if the person did something bad, I do not support something like that. Even as I listened to them fall more, I could not help but glare at them and still remain scared for my life. If they can murder a five-year girl and call it fun, why was I still alive?

Today something interesting happened. I died. How awful, they’ll say. How tragic. And she was so young, with everything ahead of her. There will be an article in the paper about how I burned too bright and died too young. My funeral will be small…a few weeping friends, some sniffling neighbors and acquaintances. How they’ll clamor to comfort my poor husband, Gray. They’ll promise to be there for our daughter as she grows up without me. So sad, they’ll say to each other. What was she thinking?

“You don’t want children?” “No.” “You might change your mind⁠—” “No.” “You may want other things later in life.” “There is no later in life, sweetheart. I’ll probably be dead in the next ten years.” “Why?” “Why?” he asked. “Because I’m not arrogant enough to assume I’m invincible. At some point, there will always be someone smarter and stronger to replace you. It may be one of my own men. It may be an outside opponent. I don’t fucking know. But I won’t die in a rocking chair in front of the TV. It’ll be a bullet to the head or a knife to the throat. And if I’m really fucking lucky, it’ll be quick.”

He knows he would be executed for killing a participant in the Dance of the Dead. With a harsh, irritated scoff, Adrian steps back, cutting off his aura entirely. “Enjoy your final days, Fae,” he sneers, laying emphasis on the ‘fae’ as if it is derogatory. He probably thinks it is. He adjusts his leather cuffs one last time and smoothens his clothes. “Because when you die in that arena,” he continues. “I’ll be the first one cheering. I’ll personally throw your corpse to the hounds.” “I’ll be sure to disappoint you then,” I say softly.

On the day of my mother's funeral, I sat outside the chapel, crying so hard I could barely stand. Three days earlier, my father had told me she'd died in a car accident. He said her body was so badly damaged that I shouldn't see it. I wouldn't be able to handle it. I believed him. I put on a black dress and sat beside her casket all night. Ten minutes before the cremation, my phone buzzed. A notification popped up for a hotel livestream. I opened it and froze. My mother was on the screen in an evening gown, smiling as my younger sister, Nina Whitmore, handed her a glass of champagne. My father sat beside her, his eyes red. "From now on, Nina doesn't have to live in Evelyn's shadow or suffer

but it’s too late the weird thing about this is that you can see your body inside the coffin, then it is even weirder when you attend your own funeral I can see my friends crying, my former classmates, and finally, my ex over there crying because of my loss “John Carl why did you die suddenly? I will help you rank up on Mobile Legends, right!?”-David (crying) I’m stronger than you! “Poor you. I know stupid people like you die easily but it’s too early.” - Phil “Sorry !!! sorry John Carl !! I know you were hurt when I turned you down but I hope you let me apologize first!!- Dessa (crying)

“ It’s either you kill, or you’ll be killed. “ Hearing such blinding invitation, Dye couldn’t avoid to laugh. But it’s more like a laugher of a dangerous person who’s a bad guy type. He had never felt this feeling for quite a long time know.

The experienced interrogating officer, maintaining professional detachment, pressed harshly: "Then what? Did she call?" He spread his hands in an exaggerated gesture, performing a pathetic solo show. "She called! Crying her eyes out, snot and tears all over her, calling everyone! And you know what? Hahaha, the funniest damn thing I've ever heard! Nobody believed her! Either told her she was scamming them or just hung up on her annoying ass! Tsk tsk, even called that big-shot brother of hers. You know what he said? Told her if she wanted to die, she should hurry up and stop bothering people!" "CRASH!"

He rubbed at his temple, wincing as the dull throb at the base of his skull returned—stronger this time. He hated that pain. It was the only thing lately that reminded him he was still alive. Nathan stood, moving toward the window. The city glittered below—bright, noisy, full of life he couldn’t feel. Neon lights painted his reflection across the glass: tousled hair, tired eyes, perfection sculpted by fame but filled by exhaustion. He tapped his cigarette against the railing, watching the ashes scatter like snow. “Another night,” he murmured, “another stranger.” His phone buzzed on the table. A message from his manager: