Character deaths

[Gale_of_Hades]

Ok, I realise that some people have a hard time killing off characters, even when it's needed so heres what I propose: I'll say a word, and you have to come up with a death relateing to it, any kind as long as it relates to the word. once you have killed off your character, give the next person a word. Ok, first word is...Storm. Good luck.

[Sweetrose]

Jay looked up. She could feel the icy-cold water lapping at her ankles. The clouds had swallowed the sun, and it was raining heavily. She turned to Sammie. "Take care of Melony." she said, and a bright light flashed, and the light of lightning was the last Sammie ever saw of her.


Chains.

[Nevermore]

The icy grip of frozen metal chilled him to the core, dragging him downwards to meet the monster. Poetic justice perhaps, that the very chains he'd once used to torture countless innocents would be used to bring about his demise.

And save the world. Yeah, he was a fucking hero now. It'd be a better end than he deserved.

Ansem grinned, letting gulps of filthy water pass through his lips, sliding down his throat like the icy fingers of death herself. The chains would bind him-and the explosive device bound to his chest-to a world-eating monster and kill them both, if all ended well. He'd end like he'd always wanted to; with a bang.

Abyssal jaws closed in around him, tearing into his shoulders, arms, and legs all at once. And with a final smirk Ansem flipped the switch embedded in his chest, and saved the world.


Greed

[shadow lights]

I did the word that my best friend challenged me with: flood
I stared at the wall of water, that stood before me. I knew the rain had made the swamp water rise, but I would have never believed that the gamemakers, would try to flush us out. Then, I remembered what Lyra and Hay had said when Atlas and I left the Alliance. "Pheebee, Atlas, camp up high. If you don't, when you see the water, run." Lyra had spoke in a whisper and was choosing her words carefully. Now, I see why. Lyra and Hay were slamming themselves against the barrier of the arena. When the barrier shook, it created an earthquake, the arena is a swamp, filled with water. And water plus earthquake equals flood. I wish I could do what Lyra said and run as fast as my feet could carry me. But, I knew it was hopeless, the water was too close. I stuck out my hand and Atlas grasped it. "Nice knowing ya, Pheebee." Atlas whispered. I swallowed hard. "See you up there." He gave me one last half smile and my knuckles turned white from squeezing his hand. I shut my eyes and let the water fill my lungs and carry me into oblivion.

HERE LIES PHEEBEE MARIE EYE: HUNGER GAMES 25

word: mirror or glass

[Anastasia]

Lucy looked at herself in the mirror. A stranger gazed back at her. Short black hair framed a chubby face with swollen, red-rimmed eyes. Freckles covered the whole of her face. She looked back down. She wanted to die. Oh, how much she wanted to end her life. To just give up. Then her father began yelling at her mum. Mean words. Awful words vibrated through her plump body and along with the fear anger rose its head. She smashed her fist against the mirror and sharp glass cut through her knuckles. She sighed. She embraced the pain. Her father had gone silent. She heard footsteps and then her father banging against the door. "What the hell have you done now! Lucy! Get out!" She grabbed a broken piece and studied it. The doorknob rattled but she had seen so that no one could get in. Lucy!" She looked up at the remaining pieces of the mirror still glued on the wall. Her face was now a disfigured, appaling picture. Just like what she imagined her soul to be. And then she cut herself. When her father came in after breaking in it was too late. Next word:car

[whimsical]

"Where are we going, mommy?" The little boy asked, his chubby fingers tracing pictures in the frost car window. The woman looked backwards into the innocent, shining brown eyes of her firstborn, her one and only joy in this cruel, bleak world.

"Somewhere better," she replied softly. "You'll like it there, I promise."

Looking back at her life, she realized that it had been a dreary one indeed. She had been pregnant at sxiteen; her boyfriend had left her shortly after. Her first husband had abused her both verbally and physically, threatening to send her child away. She had no job, no friends, no family; there was nothing and no one left in the world for her, except for him. Her and her child had never fully found happiness.

That was going to change. She was going to make life better for the both of them... in another world. With a boost of determination, she stepped on the accelerator.

A passerby reported seeing a car washed up on the river eight hours later. Police reports indicate two bodies, a woman and a child. No traces of alcohol could be determined. The lead investigator eventually concluded it 'might have been the ice.'

~

Next word: fire

[Resnova]

The heat was unbarable, the young man curled up in the corner of the windowless room. The flames crept closer and closer and within minutes he knew he would be dead. Just as the flames touched his bare skin and he screamed out in pain and fear he caught a glimps of a framed photo on the dresser. His lips on the soft cheek of the girl he loved and the last thoughts that ran through his mind as the flames consumed her were of the happy times they spent together.

Word: accident

[Jenn_colbss]

With all her strength, Jenna jerked repeatedly, attempting to remove the steel dagger from the stone wall. She felt a thin, frail arm reach around her toward the weapon to join in the pull. Jenna rejected her friends assistance and gave a final, powerful jerk. The dagger grated between the merciless stone and unlodged itself, whizzing past Jenna's keen ears. She spun around to collect her sharp trophy, but instead found her ailing comrade on the floor. The dagger, stuck between her lifeless eyes, released a crimson stream that flowed down her pale face. It was then that Jenna realized the evil she had caused. Though it was unintentional-as all of this had been-she was fulfilling the very prophecy she vowed to break.

Word: revenge

[Dabs]

Mark sliced through the highway, dodging past the rally of speeding cars. He snickered and flipped them off as a chorus of horns split the air. They could beep all they liked. But hey, they didn't own a '68 Camaro; they didn't quite get what it was like. You didn't just sit back and chill with a car like this. It was called a muscle car for a reason; you had to flex the bicep, make sure everyone was paying attention. They had to hear the engine scream and growl. They had to see your red paint job flash past their windshield. And they had to see the speed. They had to know that they were less than you, that they couldn't keep up even if they wanted to, and on the off chance they could, they wouldn't look half as good as you did.

Mark cut the wheel, dashing back across the road. Someone screamed out at him--some old lady, fat and sagging with those big clunky old-lady glasses. Mark slowed just a tad so she could pull up next to him. Fuck, she even had that old lady hair--a hoary afro. When she turned her head, the light hit her just right, so you could see the top of her scalp through the thinning frizz.

"You rapscallion!" she cried, shaking her fist.

Mark drew a deep breath, cocked his head to the side, and screamed, "Fuck!"

The woman's skin whitened, as if she'd never heard the word before. Her jawline tightened, and she tossed her glasses into the back seat.

"It's on, turd!" Her eyes lit with anger--no, hatred. He clenched the wheel, then slammed her car into Mark's.

"Fuckin' jesus christ," Mark snarled as he fought for control. His car slid over into the center island, digging up chunks of grass and dirt. Another slam. His neck thrashed; the seatbelt dug into his skin.

"Pussy!"

Another slam.

"Fuckin' stop! Christ, old lady! Fuckin' stop!" His voice cracked. His eyes watered. Shit, he couldn't see.

Another slam. The last slam.

He car spun. The windshield broke. On what? When? How? Pain shot through his body as the glass slashed at his face and party-exposed chest. His head whipped from side to side. He screamed. The car roared. Louder. Louder.

The woman cackled. Louder. Louder.

"You pussy! You don't fuck with Edna!" Cackling. Cackling.

Heat. Burning.

The car stopped.

Roaring.

Then fire. Shrapnel tearing into his skin. Hot metal sliced over his throat.

***

My word is: Penguin

Have fun, muahahaha!

[Sire Humbert Fray]

"There are more than a few cases where people have died because of a sudden surprise" Tim Piste once said. How right would't he be. Tim died while cleaning the windows of the Empire States building. It seems that one of the residents had kept a pet penguin that liked to gaze out the window. Apparently it kept a dream of flying. So the very day that Tim was cleaning the window the owner of the penguin had forgotten to close one of the windows. The penguin took its chance and threw itself out the window. Quite soon it must have realized, as well as Tim, that penguins don't fly so very well. The penguin crashed into Tim's working platform and caused it to fall over. According to a bystander Tim tried to use the penguin as a cushion. And he always told me that he was an animal friend. Pft!

Give me some credit here, what else could I have written regarding death by penguin?

The next word shall be: Sound

[willabee93]

In thunder, there is no such thing as safety. In the midst of an Earthquake, there is no shelter from noise. It swallows and envelopes. It surrounds and penetrates. There is naught that can escape the power of the bellows of the sonar. Be one deaf or capable of hearing, the sound WILL penetrate and affect a person.

As the building crashed towards the ground, the minute that felt as though it were an hour, it was not debris that killed her. It was not the dust or airborne silicone. It was not the seemingly endless gusts of wind that blew her back as she watched. It was the sound of those who perished. It was the bleating cries of her beloved coworkers, family and friends. The piercing shrieks and moans drove her to her knees where she tried desperately to block them out. She couldn't... It was too much.

Slowly crippling to the ground, she huddled within herself and breathed her final breath. As the final gasp of air escaped from her now decrepit lungs, bystanders saw the lights fleeing from her body. They watched as she evanesced to nothing. Her body was but wasn't. Though still physically there, her soul was gone in its entirety. All that was left of her was her empty, fleshy shell... the vessel that carried her though all that she had done.


Next word:
-- Death Himself --

[Lizzie]

I felt a luring over my corpse, a harsh breath on my bones. A shadow floated over my rotting skin, feeding on the life still left. A craning spine and spindly fingers hung above me, reaching for my chest. The needle-like fingers dig through my ribs and clutch onto my still heart. With a fierce twist and wrench, it's lifted and crumbles into ash in the ragged hands. A simple cloud of light is left hovering above the palm, like the moon's reflection on a clear night. It wisps around slowly and death himself fixates on it, the hollow eyes burning down on it. Where will it take me? I think.

"Onwards," it speaks.

_______________________

Next word: Circus.

[Mia]

My eyesight was hazy. What had happened? One minute I was walking home and the next thing I see when i awake is a red and yellow haze. I feel the cold wet, rough ground below me. It almost felt like straw, hay even. When i fully recovered my vision i realized where id been, I was in a cage. A small metal cage, one that would maybe be for a lion in the circus.

Wait...... Circus! Thats where I was in the middle of the ring, inside the big Circus tent. Fully recovering from the blow to the back of the head I suffered, my surroundings were finally starting to make sense. That was until I noticed what had been sitting exactly 20 feet in front of me. On the other side of the cage thank god. What happened next was what changed everything.

Next Word: Baloons