Most effed up way to die.

[balls_to_the_wall]

I think, it would be the way Poe wrote in the story the pit and the pendulum (i think thats the name) where a pendulum is slowy cut across you slowly getting deeper and deeper untill you get cut inhalf. Nasty

[KustmAce]

Originally Posted by jibbijib

Plus, if your going to post worst death, then make it up.

I was unaware that we had to make it up. I am under the impression that being encased in hot wax and left to starve would be a fairly nasty way to die. But if you want me to make something up...

Imagine waking up with your eyes and lips sewn shut. You are tied with wire to a wooden chair. The wire is tight, very tight. You can feel the warm sicky residue of slowly seeping and drying blood at your wrists and ankles. The pain from the wire is amplified by the throbbing pain in your eyelids and lips from the repeated puncture of an overly large needle. You struggle, but that only send the wire restraining you deeper into your flesh. Its dead quiet. The only sound you hear is the crackling of a fire, which is faint, as if it almost out.

Suddenly you hear a sound from the floor about you, a shuffling. As if someone is slowly walking around. The steps are erratic, and misguided. There is a crash, and a moan. You hear the sound of a second person in the room above you. Steps slowly nearing the sound of the struggling person. Suddenly there is a whimper, a faint plea for mercy, and then silence. There is a pause, then a scraping sound, as if someone is dragging something heavy. The noise is ceased by a thud on the far side of the room above you. The footsteps resume, across the room above you. You hear the slow creak of a door open, then slow, careful footsteps coming down a nearby stairwell. They cease at the foot of the stairs. A brief pause before they start towards you. Nearer and nearer they draw, before they pause directly behind you.

There is a long period of near silence. The only audible sound is hampered breathing behind you. It is deafening. The slow, erratic draws of breath are deafening. Your stomach is turning with nausea from the pain in your wrists and face. The silence is suddenly broken the piercing sound of a knife being drawn from a table. Slowly the footsteps creep around to the front of you. You feel the blade being lightly drawn from your throat down your body to your foot. But he's not cutting you. He gets to your toe. The blade stops, and become more direct. He increases his pressure, and you can feel it pierce your toe. Slowly he drives it in. You scream, but nothing comes out save for a dull moan. You feel the threads in your lips tear slightly. Tears stream down your face as he twists the knife with your foot. He pulls on the knife, it cuts your toe open further, but its hard. You feel it force the wire restraining your legs deeper into the flesh. The blade reaches your toenail. Your numb with pain. You vomit, but it has no where to go, so you must swallow it back down. What little emerges from your nostrils soon dries and the smell of vomit encompasses you. He seems to be stuck on your toenail. He pull harder, but the wire around your ankle has reached the bone, and he can pull no more. He removes the knife. The searing pain in your toe has blistered your whole body. You are dizzy from the pain. You try to fall over but cant. Suddenly you feel the pressure of the blade once again. This time, however, he is cutting the other way, straight down. He methodically saws through the flesh, and with a final thrust, breaks the bone. You hear the blade hit the floor, as he removes your toe. Your muffled screams tear the thread ever so slightly, enough to send another piercing pain through your spine. You can feel the sticky drying blood on your chin. The smell of vomit and blood have filled the room.

The footsteps leave you, you hear them walk to the far side of the room, and a door creaks open, and then quietly shuts. You are alone. The fire has died, and there is silence. Your chest is wet with tear seeping through the stitches. Your body is a cacophany of aches, stings, and piercing pain. You are having trouble breathing, there is dried vomit in your nose, and you must force it back down with heavy inhales through your nose. You sit, thinking of nothing but pain for what seems like hours before he returns. Finally, the door opens, and closes, and footsteps draw towards you once again. He walks briskly this time. Walks to your right side. He begins to untie the wire that has embedded itself in your wrist. You arm is free. You frantically try to push him away, but he counters with a firm fist in your teeth. You sit stunned, as he works with your free arm. He bandages your cuts, raises your arm, and holds it briefly. You feel his other hand at your elbow. He begins to slowly push down on your arm, as he pulls up on your elbow. You feel a throbbing sensation in your entire arm. It becomes worse and worse as he adds more and more pressure. The pain is unbearable and you muffled screams pierce the silence once again until a loud crack echoes through the empty room. Your head feels like it is spinning and your stomach turns. He keeps pushing one your arm until the back of your hand meets your shoulder. You vomit again, with the same result, and have to swallow what didnt seep out your nose back down. He lets your arm fall to your side. You try to push him away but your arm is motionless. The hands return and pick up you arm, only to let it fall again. You wince and cry each time, but to no avail. Finally he brings your hand back to your shoulder, and winds the same wire around your bicep and wrist. So you sit, your arm broken and tied in a position it was never meant, and he leaves, again.

You are angry, furious even. You spend the next several hours podering how sick a man must have to be to play this kind of twisted game with any human. You think of you wife, 8 months pregnant with your son. What had you done to deserve such treatment? Tears flow down your face, because you know, today, you will die. You will never be able to say goodbye to your mother and father. You relive your childhood memories, it helps with the pain. You will never be able to tell the ones you love how much they mean to you. You will never meet your child.

Your inner turmoil is broken by the crashing open of the door. Loud footsteps rush towards you and the sound of a knife being quickly drawn off a table initiates your nausea once again. A hand grips your lower jaw, very firmly. It squeezes tight as you feel the knife slip between your lips and cut the stitches binding your mouth. As soon as your lips are free you scream with all your might. You are quickly silenced by a large hand over your mouth, and a fist to your skull. You bite the head but he hits you again, harder.

You wake up, your mouth is bound by tape, duct tape, which is wrapped very tightly around your head. The taste of blood has filled your mouth and nostrils. You cannot feel your tongue. It has been removed. You are forced to swallow gulp after gulp of blood. Your nausea returns, and you must undergo the torture that is swallowing it all once again. But this time it doesnt go away after doing so. Your stomach is full of blood, and it keeps coming. The room silent. Your whole body is sticky from drying blood. Your feet are throbbing, and your arm is numb. Footsteps suddenly break the silence as they head down the stairs. A door opens, and he is back in the room with you. He walks by you and hits your broken arm with a blunt object. A shriek of pain piercing your spine. He walks to your front, and presses the heel of what feels like a very large boot slowly on your toe. He drives his foot down hard and crushes your toes, then grinds his heel slowly several times. You hear the al-to-familiar draw of a large blade as he fetches his knife. He kneels down and reaches under the chair. you feel the blade at the back of your foot, just above your heel. He draws the blade back and forth across your tendon until it breaks. This is the worst pain yet, your body convulses as your tendon snaps unp inside of your. The wretching of your body drives all the wire in deeper, and the nausea overtakes you. He moves the blade to the other heel, and repeats the agonizing process. He quickly gets up, and your hear him draw another, heavier object from the table. He sets the bulnt edge of the hammer on your kneecap, to let you know what it is. The touch of the hammer ceases, as he draws it back. Suddenly your leg is shaken by the heavy fall of the blunt edge directly on your kneecap. Your body is shaken, but you are completely numb with pain. He strikes the knee again. And again. You feel the blunt edge fall into what feels like much inside what used to be your knee. Again and again he strikes, but it sounds like hes driving the hammer into slush. Then suddenly the hammer falls on your other knee, which soon becomes nothing but a festering pit of broken bone and blood. He unties the previously untouched wire binding your other arm. You feel as he peels the wire out of the now scabbing incisions in your wrist. Your arm instantly swings towards his general direction. But you are doing nothing more than frantically flailing.you hear the dragging of a table to your free arm's side. Your hand is gripped firmly and he spreads your fingers out on the table. The hammer strikes the first finger. And again. You vomit again, but are faced with the same predicament. He moves to your middle. He pounds it into a pulp. Then your ring, and your pinky. He finishes with your thumb. Your arm is left at your side to dangle. You try and move it but you are too weak. Suddenly you feel the force on a fist in your nose. Not once, but again. And again. Your head fumbles around but he always manages to hit squarely on your nose. He keeps at it until you can feel nothing in your face. He is hitting mush. You can still breath, but not very well. Your arms broken arm is unbound, as are your feet. A rope is tied around your neck, and you are pulled out of the chair. He pulls you, like a dog, across the room. He has to drag you most of the way as your arm does not work and you repeatedly fall on your broken face. You are overcome with pain. You try to move your feet, but can not. You slip on your own blood which is pouring out of your badly beaten nose. You reach the door, and it is thrown open. Your are dragged outside, into the fresh snow. At this point, you fall, unable to continue. Writhing in pain, and utterly exhausted, he drags you for what seems like a mile throught the snow. Finally, he stops, you hear the creak of an ancient door being opened. He drags you inside what appears to be a very small establishment of some kind. A tiny room. He throws you against one wall, and then the other, where you fall. You hear the "click" of a switchblade knife, and he cuts the duct tape in half at the back of your head. He hastily cuts the stitches binding your eyes as well. The footsteps leave the tiny room, and a door creaks shut. A lock clicks into place as you sit, trying to make sence of where you are. Your eyes barely open, and are flooded by blood. You try to see, but no luck, he room is pitch dark anyway. You manage to remove the tape from your face using the palm of your mangled hand and immediately scream. You scream for the police, for your wife, for your friends, anyone. But no one can hear you. All that you can hear is someone outside, digging. The shovel pierces the ground, and dirt hits a few feet away. Shoveling. Thats the only sound you can hear. The vomit comes back and you fill a corner of the tiny room with vomit and blood. It is in this room that you will spend the next several days, until you die from fatigue and thirst.

Hows that?

[jon@af]

Cliffnotes, Tim?

[SiGNAL748]

Originally Posted by KustmAce

Hows that?

No. Mine's still better; because it's real.

[turtlecrxsi]

He would've died a lot sooner. Decent fiction. Some typos but not bad...

[ThatRoundHeadedKid]

Tim.........you're scary.

[balls_to_the_wall]

Remind me NOT to piss you off, cause.... Damn

[Cyprus106]

You're in the basement of your house tinkering with wood. You decide that you're bored. Feeling devious, you whip "you jr." out and start dicking around. literally. Then, out of sheer boredom, you run some nearby sewing pins through the foreskin in your fingers. Then, still being devious, you start running pins through your scrotum sack. You misprick one and run it straight through your left teste. In a panic, you tear the pin out, making a large tear. you call 911 immedietly, scream that you need an ambulance, give them your address and leave the phone off the hook. Now, Numb with pain and screaming in agony, you grab the first liquid you can find to pour over the wound; Ice Cold Coca Cola. Pouring it on without thinking, the sugary acidic coke burns the inside and the wound, causing you to pass out with pain. When the medics arrive and find you in the basement, you've already died from blood loss. You entire penis and surrounding area is missing and you've bled everywhere.

Smelling the blood and sugar, rats were attracted to the source and began eating when they found it. You bled profusely, thankfully while in a comatose unconsciousness, and died.

Do I win?

[Cyprus106]

ok wait, i just read tim's. Dude, that's not fucked up. That's some of the most demented, nasty shit I've heard. Fuck you.


*edit* lol oops that sounded pissy. I didn't mean it in a mean way.

[KustmAce]

Originally Posted by SiGNAL748

No. Mine's still better; because it's real.

jibbijib is gonna get mad at you because you have to make it up.

i didnt think so either at first. and i know mine isnt perfect, but ive never written torture fiction before, and it was late, hence the typos.

[jibbijib]

Still fucking crazy. Ive only got to the broken arm part and i had to take a break. I would have puked had I gone further. Very well written KustmAce. I revoke anything bad I said toward you. And no, I'm not angry about him not making it up, it's inevitable that someone will copy from somewhere or quote, but still, make the effort people. Quote away, but add something of your own. This isn't a contest, so no one wins, and if it were, I'd say as it stands, Tim (am i right?) is the winner. Don't be afraid to be comical though, death doesn't have to be serious...