Win Or Die Novels & Stories

"Well, someone goes first, or we're all going to die!" Everyone's heads looked around the circle as we tried to figure out who would start. "Oh for the love of the gods!" Cried Bonolo, as she stepped forward. I loved a nonseer. And, he died because of it." Her voice was grim, serious. The platform began to shake again. "I'm gay." My head snapped to Rent. His voice shook slightly, but he held his ground. His eyes swooped to Carrie and she gave him an encouraging smile. "Someone go! Your secret won't fucking matter if we all die!" Yelled Rent.

“One more shot!” “One more shot!” “One more shot!” Ann and Lea, accompanied by a group of people who were at the party, cheering on Brent who was in a drinking competition against a certain guy they just met there at the party. Brent drank and drank till he could drink no more, then his opponent drank one last glass making him the winner by a glass. The crowd immediately dispersed after they cheered for the winning champion.

Maybe they'll also have a beautiful end after all this suffering. "Make a wish." He said suddenly. She looked astonished at his sudden suggestion. "What?" She scoffed and gave him a weird look. "Make a wish." He repeated as he nodded, sounding pretty serious. "...ok..." She said and found his request a little weird. They both closed their eyes and made a wish. She bit her lower lip and clenched her fists. "I wish to die." She wished, a torturous expression on her face, as she couldn't bear the pain anymore. His consoling made her feel better but she didn't have any reason to live on.

Maybe, they had nothing to say. Then Dustin looked up. "You're not dying. That's the end of that." He said with finality ringing in his tone. I nodded, desperately trying to share in the faith they had, but couldn't bring myself to . "It's so sad here, who died?" Alex walked in, carrying two pizza boxes in his hands. Waive flipped a shoe at him. "Hey! What'd I do?" He was taken aback by surprise. "Death jokes are not accepted. Alex rolled his eyes.

Preston picked up a die and outlined the rules. “Let's keep it simple. We'll shake this one die, and the person with the highest number wins. If you can consistently achieve the highest number among everyone, we each drink five glasses at a time. And if you lose, you squat for five minutes. How does that sound?” he proposed. Luna nodded, intrigued by the idea of getting five drinks in a row if she managed to shake the highest number. It was a challenge she was willing to take on. Today, she would show these guys that women couldn’t be easily underestimated. “Delmor, you start on your end,” Luna instructed with a smirk.

Even though I haven't read my dad's life narrative just yet, I already knew that there’s something sad behind his story. ‘‘This is not getting anywhere…’’ I said firmly, straightening my body up, taking a step closer to him. ‘‘We have to do this the traditional way. The one who wins gets to choose the book…’’ His brows furrowed. ‘‘Traditional way…?’’ ‘‘Yeah… let’s play rock, paper, scissors?’’ I challenged him with a smirk. ‘‘Cynthia… we're not in fucking kindergarten!’’ I glared at him. ‘‘This would be fun! C’mon!’’

I stare at the lovely city of Manchester as I weigh my options. It’s either bankruptcy and death or marriage and coronation. I guess the latter isn’t much of a bad idea, only it is. Whatever the case, my father’s murders must pay. I have a secret after all, I can hardly die.

Mira I stood by the window, waiting. He would drive in soon. It was almost eight, his usual time. I silently prayed he’d be sober or exhausted. I walked back to the sofa and sat on the edge, nervous, my hands fidgeting. Then I heard it—the sound of the engine as he drove into the garage. I stood immediately, rooted in place until the loud banging on the door made me move. “Mira, Mira!” He shouted my name. That only meant one thing. He was drunk, again.

It felt just like—death. Meanwhile, my family waited anxiously. Seeing the doctor return, they quickly donned their helmets without hesitation. Somewhere beyond my dying breaths, the machine's cold melody wrenched the last light of my mind back into memories.

a man called out, and Rex motioned him over. Jake took a stash of cash from his jacket, placing a bet, and Rex did the same. They’d both bet on Wraith winning. I wiped my sweaty palm against my jeans, unable to understand how they weren’t even the tiniest bit nervous by the fight about to take place. The bell rang again, this time three consecutive times. The betting ended. “There are two ways to win: when one surrenders, or when one is killed.” He paused, letting that sink in. “Let the fight begin!”