Unspeakable Water Bottle Novels & Stories

The inability to speak had come first, along with that unbearable thirst and the weakness in my limbs. Someone must have sabotaged me. The realization settled over me with cold certainty. But who? And how? I mentally retraced my morning, looking for opportunities. The water bottles had been sealed, I'd checked the caps myself before attaching them to my backpack. They'd been distributed randomly to everyone in the group, so it wasn't like someone could have specifically targeted mine. But from the moment I'd started drinking that water, something had felt off. There'd been an uncomfortable taste, subtle but wrong. Even now, I could feel my throat burning from whatever I'd ingested, a chemica

Hunter answered it very quickly and said in a lazy tone, “Do you need something, Ms. Raines?” “I know you’re one of the owners of Club Lunaris. I’d like to ask you for a small favor.” Sydney recalled the fragments she could remember and said, “Last night, I came out of the room to go to the washroom and threw up. When I went out, a waiter passed by and gave me a bottle of mineral water.” “Huh?” Hunter’s voice raised. “What do you mean?” “After drinking that bottle of water, I couldn’t remember what happened after that.” Sydney said, “I know my alcohol tolerance, and I also threw up in the washroom. How could I have blacked out? I think there’s something wrong with that bottle of water.”

he asked his sister. Samantha nodded and smiled back to her twin. “Since we don’t have an empty wine bottle, can we use this instead?” she asked, puppy eyes on Jacel. “That’s disposable, actually.” Jacel was quick to point to the water bottle with a blue plastic brand wrap tied around its body. “That means you’re free to use it until its useless.” “Great!” Samantha walked back to us. This time, she ignored her chair and squatted on the floor instead. “Now let’s start the game!”

I pick up the bottle of liquid resting at the corner of the dashboard to cure my suddenly dry and dehydrated throat. "Don't drink that," Noah tells me and I roll my eyes. "Don't tell me what to do." I throw my head back to gulp down the whole of the liquid, the weird taste in it making my nose scrunch up. "Why does it taste like..." "Urine? That's because it is." "WHY WOULD YOU EVEN PEE IN A BOTTLE?!" He stares into my horrified face, tearing his gaze off the road for the first time since the ride.

With a calm face, he said, "Miss, I was only taking a drink from my water bottle, which you made presumptions about and turned it into something so filthy. "You've got a sense of humor. If I were to follow your rationale, wouldn't that mean that everyone who takes a sip of water at the school gate wants to hook up with you? "So, as long as you spot someone having a drink, you'd offer yourself up to them? Ha-ha, it's truly my first time seeing someone as shameless as you!" Once Owen finished speaking, he flung his empty water bottle away. With a beautiful trajectory, his mineral water bottle ended up in the trash can.

Maybe not all white men are devils. I felt my tummy tighten, and then my nipples sharpened to a point. “Oh, Bradley, what are you doing to me?” Heat crept up from my tummy and burned my cheeks. I grabbed a clean glass and filled it with tap water. Even though there were tons of bottled water in the house, I still preferred tap. Something told me that these companies just fill the bottles from the taps and sell them to people, telling them it was spring water. I placed the cup to my mouth, and gulped the drink of life down.

I reached for a nearby bottle of water, my hand trembling so slightly I hoped no one would notice. “Hm…” I managed, the sound a non-committal grunt as I unscrewed the cap. I lifted the bottle and took a huge, desperate gulp, the cold water a shock to my system. It did nothing to wash away the coppery taste of fear that seemed to coat my tongue. I lowered the bottle, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, and crafted a careful, thin smile. “Well, I’m glad y’all had fun.”

If there were mice or other rodents, her movements had probably already scared them away. Taking the empty plastic water bottles from the backpack, she goes to the sink and turns the handle of the faucet, praying the water still worked. It did, but where the water had not run in what she assumed was a long while, it was brown and smelled horrible. She knew enough to know that either the pipes had rusted from lack of use or there was just dirt that needed to run out.

“What?” “The other spy didn’t follow him, instead he followed his most trusted henchman. Alpha Uriel, he is 25 years old. Although he is very young, he is a retired assassin who has never missed his target. It is said that he is like a son to him, that he raised him but that is not the gist. After his constant visits to this particular warehouse the spy found out that Marcelo’s men are repackaging bottle water made with this poison to sell in every market.” “Bottle water is the cheapest and the easiest thing to buy. It is literally sold everywhere and the poison will spread even faster this way.”

Metal against metal, sharp and cruel. A shadow leans in, and I catch a glimpse of a man’s grin. A plastic bottle dangles from his hand, condensation sliding down the sides. Water. My throat convulses at the sight, my tongue swelling, my lips parting before I can stop them. I hate myself for it, hate that I’ve become so animal that my body begs openly. “You want this?” he asks, voice low and mocking. I don’t answer. He shakes the bottle, the liquid sloshing inside. Then, slowly, deliberately, he tips it forward. Water spills out in a thin stream onto the ground, soaking into the dirt. Each drop feels like a knife carving through me.