I have had this idea for quite sometime that to really have a good
and vicious death, you really need some help.  I could do  alot on my
own, but with help, a whole new world of ideas opens up. If I tried to
kill myself slowly, I might chicken out or pass out.  I decided  to
post some ideas on some of the snuff newsgroups to get some feelers
out.  Well, some people were downright crude and others were
supportive of my desire for a spectacular death.  It was suggested
that I go overseas for what I want and they are probably right, but I
don't want what's left of my body in a Bangkok dump.

    I love knives as you have noticed, and that is the method of
choice for me to die.  It just has that old world basic charm and it
is so simple.

    I talked with some really interesting people on the newsgroups,
but really got some interest from an adult personal profile page. 
There, certain words aren't flamed form existence.  I found a dozen
guys and a few girls interested in helping me.  It takes a special
person to be able and willing to help someone die.  I'm glad these
people exist.  I could never be a helper.  After talking for weeks to
a few really good listeners, I decided on one superb guy.  Most of the
others spent too much time telling me what they wanted to do, not
realizing that I was the one making the decisions.  My final choice
was 100% behind my ideas and simply wanted to be my second, in the
best tradition of the samurai.

    Jack lived within 200 miles of my home which made it .convenient 
I was going to have to pay him of course, but I had to set up an
elaborate method of payment so he wouldn't just shoot me when we got
to his cabin deep in the woods.  That was my biggest fear.  After
setting up a proper money transfer scheme, I made my plans to visit my
new friend, if only for a few days, at which point, I would die.

    I tied up all of my affairs at home.  I wiped my hard disk clean
and closed my secret email accounts.  There would be no trace of my
secret life.

    It was difficult to leave my wife that last morning, but better
this way than to die a slow agonizing death from cancer and waste all
of our money on futile efforts to save me.  She would find out the
truth that I'd planned for her and be better off.   It would look like
I was car jacked and taken prisoner and murdered with my car
abandoned.

    As I drove the 200 miles to the county where Jack lived, it all
came home to me. I was on my way to die.  I was leaving much behind,
but only a little sooner than expected and in a far better way.  This
was truly the only way.  It would certainly cost less.  I would see,
feel and experience what few people ever will and be totally at peace
with my decision.  As I got into town and got out of my car, I took
the money and credit cards and threw them into a dumpsite leaving my
wallet behind.

    To keep his whereabouts unknown, I was to walk down a certain road
in the woods of WV just off a county road at 11 PM.   I left my car in
a 24 hour store parking lot, so it wouldn't be noticed for days. Jack
was going to pick me up and I would ride in the trunk the rest of the
way.  It was very bumpy and took over an hour.  When we arrived, he
opened the trunk and there was this small cabin with smoke coming from
the chimney in some of the darkest thick woods I've ever seen.  As we
walked into the cabin, there were only four rooms.  He had prepared
one for my death and then there was the kitchen, another bedroom and
combo living/dining room.  I had sent him my explicit death
instructions with some money in advance to buy the implements of my
murder and some other supplies.

    It was only 24 hours  before my death and he wanted to show me the
death kit and the room.  He was all business.  When we walked into the
room where I would be killed, I was stunned.  It was covered from wall
to ceiling in plastic and the floor was covered in drop cloths that
had duct tape over every seam.  It was one massive sheet of heavy
plastic.  He said he preferred to kill me in the wood so there would
be no chance of evidence linking him to me.  I wanted to think about
it. The only thing in the room was an overhead crude light and a twin
bed with one pillow and white sheets.  I cried in joy as this was
exactly like I wanted; stark, cold, antiseptic and all business.

    Jack showed me the death kit.  It contained a 2 inch knife, a 4
inch ice pick, a standard issue Marine knife, an old style sword with
two big side handles, and a wicked looking meat cleaver.  There were
also ropes to bind my body to the bed like a condemned slave.  I took
some laxatives with a few glasses of wine and fell asleep on the sofa.
 I wanted my stomach and bowels to be clear so I wouldn't throw up or
lose control and spoil the moment when the first few knives sunk into
my flesh.  I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and would only have
this wine, some water the rest of the time I had left.

    I didn't sleep much and neither did Jack.  We took a walk at
sunrise into the woods and his idea of killing me there became more
appealing to me.  He said we could take a tent a few miles out into
the woods with some stakes that could be driven into the ground to tie
the ropes that would hold my arms, legs and torso still for what lay
ahead.  After I was dead, he would pull  the stakes out and get rid of
the rope. He would then burn the tent with me inside to mask the
scene.  Hunters would probably eventually find me.  By that time, it
would look like an accident or simple homicide.

    I liked that idea and gave him the go ahead.  We made two trips
deep into the woods with everything we needed.  It was now 5 PM and we
were to start at dusk.  We made our way back into the woods though
some dense forest as the sun was setting. I cut myself on a branch and
began to bleed.  He looked at the blood and it was almost funny, but
my body would soon leak blood like a strainer.  My abdomen and chest
would look like bloodied swiss cheese if all went well and I made it
through to the end.

    By the time we got there, I was tired.  I drank some water and sat
on a rock and looked at the stars one last time.  I thought of my wife
and that she would now be wondering why I was late.  She would call
work and be told I never came in.  I only hoped she was able to handle
the few days of not knowing what happened to me and the moment when
the police notify her of my death. I could only hope my body would be
found quickly.  Jack said he'd call anonymously within  48 hours.

    It was now after 7 PM and pitch black. I stood up and looked at
Jack.  He could tell by my look that I was ready.  We we went into the
tent and got the big iron stakes and drove them deeply into the hard
ground hitting rocks with each strike of the hammer.  I wanted them to
be solid and hold against my violent attempts to get free once  Jack
started  to stab me.  No matter how much I wanted this, I would
certainly struggle to avoid his attacks.  The human body instinctively
will avoid pain if it can.  It is primal just like the knives.  I took
off my clothes and was as naked as when I came into this world.

    Jack asked if I needed or wanted anything.  I took a sip of water
and then opened wide so he could stuff a sock into my mouth.  He put
duct tape over my mouth and wrapped it tightly twice around my head
and under my chin.  I tried to open my mouth and scream as a test and
couldn't.  I nodded my approval to Jack.  I laid down on my back on
the mattress and spread my legs and put my arms over my head.  Jack
slowly and carefully tied me one limb at a time to the stakes.  Again,
I struggled to get free.  He had done well.  He lashed my abdomen down
tightly also.  My body was shaking with emotions I'd never imagined. 
I was an animal seeing my death approaching.  I tried to calm down and
closed my eyes.  Thank god it soon passed and I looked at Jack for a
signal that he was ready.

    He took out the weapons of my death and placed them on either side
of his legs as he kneeled next to me looking down at my body.  I could
see him looking over my chest and abdomen for the first time obviously
picking and choosing the places he would stab me.  There wasn't much
for him to say.  He got deadly serious and said he was now ready.  I
closed my eyes slowly then opened them again and nodded.

    Jack took the small knife and placed it against my belly so the
tip indented the skin.  He pushed firmly, but slowly until I felt the
skin brake.  As he continued to push, the skin enveloped the small 2
inch blade.  With only some mild pain, it was all the way in.  He let
go so that I could see the first knife stuck into me.  It  was
amazing.  I almost didn't feel its presence inside my body.  I grew
confident and totally relaxed from when I first laid down.  I knew I
would feel  much more pain later, but this was a nice way to ease me
into it.

    He quickly pulled out the knife and wasn't so easy the next time. 
He jabbed the knife right in between two ribs and pulled it back out. 
I lost my breath for a moment from the pain and then it eased.   We
had decided on 40 or 50 of these wounds, none of which could be fatal
and would cause little if any damage to a major organ. He was to avoid
my heart, groin and anything from the neck up.  I looked down at both
of my wounds. The skin had closed up when the knife was removed, but
they were both bleeding freely.  All at once, Jack repeatedly stabbed
me in the belly and abdomen on both sides and in the center.  I tried
to scream and pulled hard against the ropes trying to force my hips
away from the knife.  It hurt like a burning rod impaling my body.  He
had stabbed me a dozen times in a row.  My breathing was heavy and I
began to sweat profusely even though there was a chill in the mountain
air.  I could barely get enough air through my nose.  Noticing my
dilemma, Jack took the knife, still soaked with blood, and slit a two
inch hole through the layers of tape, being careful not to hit my
lips.  Even with the sock in my mouth, I could breath easier now.  I
groaned in approval.

    My belly and sides felt like they were on fire.  I raised my head
and  looked at my body again.  I couldn't count the holes which were
all now bleeding.  The blood was warm, but cooled as it ran down my
sides and along my groin between my legs.  The pain began to subside
and I caught my breath.  Jack said to me, "we are not done, are you
ready?"  I could only nod as he once again stabbed me over and over
again in my chest, stomach and thighs.  Two times he hit my ribs and I
almost passed out.  He paused only for a moment as I struggled to
catch my breath and endure the increasing an cumulative pain.  He
started to randomly stab me in the belly again trying to find a fresh
place each time.  I watched through my tears as the streaming blood
soaked my flesh.  Jack was now sweating and seemed drained as he
finished with the small knife.  Finally, we took a break and I tried
to calm down.  I felt pain as I tried to breath deeply.  Even the
small knife had done some internal damage to my lungs.

    Jack looked me over for any sign that I might black out.  He took
a towel and wiped my  chest and abdomen clean for the moment so he
could see where he'd stabbed me.  Within seconds of him wiping me
down, fresh blood began to gently ooze from most of my wounds. "It
looks good", he said.  Now he picked up the ice pick and let me see
it.  Although creating only a narrow puncture wound, the ice pick was
4 inches long and would surely hit some vital organs inside me.  Just
as before, Jack placed the sharp tip of the ice pick just above my
navel and pushed firmly depressing the skin nearly 2 inches.  I had no
strength in my muscles now to push against it.  He looked at me and
pushed harder.  I could feel it, but with all the other  wounds, it
seemed to disappear inside me with little ceremony.  Seeing my
oblivious reaction, he pulled it our and began to use my body like a
block of ice plunging the ice pick into me over every square  inch of
my abdomen.  He began to run out of places to stab me so he moved up
to my chest and thrust the pick in between the ribs on my right side
only.  I could feel the blood in my lungs and my feet and hands felt
cold.  He stopped and looked down at me in amazement.  He was stunned
as my body was bleeding from everywhere.  I felt pain from my waist to
my chest and couldn't distinguish one wound from another.

    With my lungs starting to fill with blood combined with the blood
loss, we both knew I wouldn't last much more than an hour.  We'd been
at it for that long already.  Little did my wife know that while she
was getting more and more concerned about me, I was a consenting party
to being stabbed to death.  I'd be dead soon. I felt so totally at
peace.  The pain was steady now, but occasionally a wave would rip
through me causing me to struggle against the ropes and moan.  Jack
was anxious to finish and clear any traces that he was here.

    I looked over at the Marine knife.  Jack smiled and picked it up. 
I was as ready as I'd ever be for it.  As per our agreement, he would
stab me at least 3 and if I was able 2 or 3 more times after that.
This large knife was 7 inches long with a wide sharp blackened steel
blade.  I had told him to stab me as hard and as deeply as he could,
plunging the knife into my belly to the handle each time. I knew it
could kill me if he hit a major artery.  He was going to be careful
and stay in my abdomen.  I knew from the damage it would cause that I
would probably pass out from the pain each time.  We brought some
smelling salts along just for that.  If I made it through the first 3
attacks, he would decide if I was lucid enough to handle more.  If
not, or if it looked like I was close to dying, he would get the sword
ready and finally kill me with one deep thrust into my heart.

    Jack held the knife high with both hands over my torso and rammed
the knife into me.  I had never felt so much pain.  The knife tore
through my body and I felt it go all the way through to my back. He
pulled it out and plunged it into me a little higher with the same
savage force.  My whole body struggled against the ropes and I
desperately tried to open my mouth to scream.  I had never experienced
such burning pain.  My guts were on fire.  Knowing that I would be
dead soon allowed me to endure this vicious attack on my body.  Jack
could tell I was in intense pain, but still coherent.  He held the
knife up again over my lower abdomen, as I tensed in anticipation, he
stabbed me for the third time.  The next thing I knew, I smelled the
smelling salts and Jack was looking down at my body in disbelief.  He
helped me raise my head.  What I saw was surreal.  The last attack had
ripped me open with a huge gash.  Blood was pouring out.  He must have
hit the femoral artery.  I was cold and couldn't feel my legs or arms.
 I was sweating profusely.  "What do you want me to do?", he said.  I
just looked over at the sword. I was ready to die.  I couldn't take
any more pain and my body had withstood 10 deaths worth of punishment.
 In spite of the intense pain, I was indescribably satisfied with this
final horrific and savage episode of my life.  I pondered my last few
minutes and it was good.

    Jack wiped away the area just below my sternum and felt with his
fingers where the bone stopped.  He picked up the sword and placed the
tip just below the bone and took a firm hold on the oversize handles. 
The sword would penetrate my body at a 45 degree angle going right
through the heart and killing me within seconds. He looked at me
knowing that my last vision would be of him and the sword ramming
through my body.  All I could do was smile.  I was close to death
anyway and would feel no more pain.  I loved the gift Jack had given
me.  All at once, he thrust the knife into my chest.  I felt it slide
through and then out my back into the mattress below.  He let go and
in that last moment of my life, the pain was gone.  I looked at the
sword and loved what I saw.  My heart pounded slowly and I couldn't
keep my eyes open.  The feeling that I'd know for over 40 years in my
chest had now stopped, but I was still breathing.  My brain was still
alive.

Epilogue:

Jack had promised John that he would torch the entire scene to make it
look like an accident and that he would later anonymously call in the
horrific find as if he were a hiker. He untied John's arms and legs
and covered him with a blanket as if he were sleeping.  He pulled up
the stakes and threw the ropes in the corner of the tent. As he
quickly gathered his belongings and began to pour 5 gallons of
gasoline all over John's body and the grounds, John flinched.  It
scared Jack to death.  While standing at the door of the tent, he
threw in a match in and the entire murder scene was ablaze in the
night.  He ran through the woods and made it back to his cabin in the
next valley.  If John could have seen his corpse burn and crackle for
hours, it might have given him a final thrill.

After a few days he called the police and they quickly made it to the
site.  They found only found the heavily charred remains of John's
body with a camp fire that had obviously been placed too close to the
tent.  It was quickly listed as an accident just as Jack had promised.


Now this one is sweet with all the elements I like.

Which one do you like?