[ WP ] You are functionally immortal : you can die but instantly come back to life . Over the many , many years you 've become jaded and bored , and now dying is the only thing that gives you any sort of rush anymore . You 're about to attempt your most elaborate and thrilling death yet .

Have you ever wondered what it feels like to die? How about what a particular manner of death feels like? I used to. Then I found out, firsthand, exactly what drowning feels like. 
 
 It sucks. Not the death by having one's lungs fill with water, the rapids, though that is certainly unpleasant. No, I'm referring to river rapids. The water was like a thousand grasping hands, caressing me as they pulled me under. It was pleasant until my chest started burning with pain. Asphyxiation. Lack of air slowly sapped the strength from my body until I could n't hold my mouth closed. The watery hands forced their way down my throat, now strangling me. I closed my eyes, and decided that a watery grave was n't so bad. I had always wanted a burial at sea. This river would be my pallbearer, and carry my body to its final resting place. I let myself fall asleep for the last time. 
 
 I woke up. I did n't know where, or how long I had been out. At the time, I was n't sure if I was relieved or disappointed. What seemed like moments before I had made peace with death, and now it seemed I had cheated it. There was a certain irony to it. I thought things over. It did n't seem likely that I would have survived. With a shrug, I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth, then found my way to the nearest road and hitchhiked back home. 
 
 A month later, I fell off a bridge. Over a river. Full of rocks. Some people just have no luck in this world, and I was not among them. I simply happened to be exceptionally drunk at the time. The tumble over the railing left me falling headfirst, and my trajectory ended at a large stone. There was a crack, and I felt my skull and spine cracking just before everything went black. 
 
 Against all odds, I found myself aware again, and sober. The bridge passed quickly overhead, and began moving out of sight. I was being swept downstream by the river. A brief sense of deja vu crossed my mind as my watery friends enveloped me in a welcoming embrace. Apparently they had missed me. This time, I decided, I would n't resist. I opened my mouth and inhaled. The icy cold water set my lungs ablaze as I became unable to breath. I blacked out, then regained consciousness on the banks. 
 
 It was at this point that I began to think that something was off. I rubbed my hand along my head and back. No blood, no broken bones, no nothing. I could have sworn I had heard and felt them break. Even with no medical training, I was certain that a fall, headfirst onto solid rock, from that height, should have been instantly fatal, or at least have left me paralyzed. Also, where the hell did my alcohol buzz go? A sharp impact to the head and an impromptu cold bath should n't have cleared my head that well. And this was made two escapes from certain drowning. 
 
 On a hunch, I pulled out my pocket knife, took a deep breath, and slashed my throat. Not my brightest idea; even if my theory proved right, it was still very painful. Blood trickled down my windpipe. Between the blood obstructing my airflow and the leakage through the slit in my neck, each gasp was an uphill battle. Eventually, darkness encroached on the edges of my vision and the world faded away. 
 
 Then, like every other time, I came back. I grasped at my neck, and found it whole, if still coated in my own blood. Immortality. Depending on who you asked, it was either a curse or a gift, and now I had it. 
 
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 For the next year or so, my life continued as normal, though I was certainly a lot less afraid of things. Then the questions began to surface again. Would death by neurotoxin feel different from death by hemotoxin? What was Seppuku really like? 
 
 It started out innocently enough, mostly with thrill seeking and moderate risk activities. I tried fugu, a Japanese dish made from a particular pufferfish that possesses a very potent neurotoxin known as Tetrodotoxin, or TTX for short. Normally, I would n't try any food that requires a license to prepare, lest the poison not be properly removed and the eater be killed, but I did n't exactly have to worry about dying. I took to skydiving, high elevation rock climbing, parkour, and many more extreme sports. `` Adrenaline junky'' did n't even begin to describe me. 
 
 One night, I decided to try something. Countless empty bottles later, and I had successfully drunk myself to death. When I woke up, I was perfectly sober, not even a trace of a hangover. My body must have purged the toxins when I revived. Well, now I have a way to sober up fast. 
 
 From there, it got more serious. I leaped from a building or two, hung myself, overdosed on several types of over the counter medication ( you would n't believe the lethal dosages on some of those things; I made myself pretty sick once or twice from not taking enough to kill me. ) I even attempted self-immolation once. I was curious to see whether the heat would cause a particular organ to fail first, the smoke would asphyxiate me before heat managed to finish the job, or the shock would get things over with quickly. `` All of the above,'' turned out to be the correct answer. Electrocution was a bit of a rush, though painful. Seppuku hurt like nothing else, but it felt good to go out like a Samurai once. I also stabbed myself in the torso several more times until I had pinpointed every organ and just how it would feel to get impaled through that one. Before you ask, I never attempted autoerotic asphyxiation. Even I have standards. I did swim with the fishes several more times, though. Nothing ever feels quite like your first time. 
 
 After a while, that got boring. I once set myself on fire, then jumped off a building, just to see if the fire or the fall would get me first. The rush of air extinguished the flames on my way down, so I had to try again with a more potent fuel. 
 
 I went on a trip to Australia, and made a point of encountering every creature the continent had to offer. Swimming with box jellies was not my smartest move; it took me dying several deaths to extricate myself from the infested waters. General advice for those that follow; do not mess with the wildlife. Very few animals failed to finish me off, including one or two that I would n't have expected. Just to be safe, steer clear of the flora as well. 
 
 By this point, I had a high pain tolerance and a certain degree of non-sexual masochism. Do n't ask how, but I managed to get my hands on some particularly nasty poisons, toxins, and chemicals. You name it, I've probably died by it. Shady connections go a long way. 
 
 Unfortunately, all of this became rather expensive. Fortunately, I had become an urban legend. Blurred videos depicting a man getting up after falling from the tallest building in a city. All I had to do was slowly bring myself into the public eye, then capitalize on my fame with literal death-defying stunts. 
 
 The sponsorship deals let me do all manner of fun and interesting stuff. Firing squad, electric chair, tesla coil, fireworks. I even got a repeat trip to Australia paid for, and had a camera crew follow me, recording my run-ins with the local flora and fauna. 
 
 After a while, I decided to make use of my newfound resources. I started planning elaborate executions for myself. I jumped from a high scaffold with nitroglycerine strapped to my body, detonating me on impact. Even being blown to bits could n't kill me, it seemed; my scattered pieces just coalesced and put themselves back together like a grotesque jigsaw puzzle. 
 
 ============= 
 
 Today, I attempt something more ridiculous than anything ever before. I am going to go up in a glider laced with nitroglycerine. Turbulence will detonate the sensitive explosives sooner or later, but nobody will know when. If I start losing altitude before they do, I will eject, more nitroglycerine strapped to my body. As I fall, a cord attached to me will pull a switch, detonating the plane behind me. If the calculations are right, the fireball should scorch my back as I fall, and then gravity will handle the rest. That is a last resort; if the explosives go off midair, I will regenerate then die again to gravity. 
 
 Of course, all of this depends on getting the glider off the ground first, and I have a crack team of technicians and specialists ready to make sure I am well airborne before anything explodes. Public safety is important, after all. 
 
 I give the team leader the thumbs up, he nods, and I am catapulted into the air. Flight is smooth, right up until I get to altitude. The first bump is soft, and not nearly enough. A second tremor rocks the tiny plane, and I smile in anticipation. Again, again, and again the shocks come. I maintain course, there is still some time before gravity finally overcomes lift and starts me on my descent. I've finally lost count when it happens. Light and heat envelop me, and I let out a mighty whoop before my body disintegrates and the omnipresent light flashes to darkest black. 
 
 I open my eyes, and see blue sky and white clouds above me. I wave goodbye to them as I leave their domain, and turn to face the ground. I give myself ten seconds to impact. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. Then pain erupts over my entire body. 
 
 Off by a couple of seconds. Oops. Terminal velocity does feel good though. I pull myself out of the small indentation I made in the earth. Another success.
