Without Three Ways to Survive in a Ruined World

by UrMommia

Summary:

*****FIC DROPPED(at least until I figure out what to do)

What would happen to the characters if there was no “Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse” and subsequently, Dokja? This is what I intend to answer.

Basically just scenes of the novel(like the way Dokja remembers it…like Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse…uhm I’m confused too).

Notes:

Hey hey! If you’re reading this…this fic isn’t going to be continued(most likely). After reading further in orv, I’ve realized that my guess about how twsa worked is probably wrong and is way more complex than I thought. At the very least, I will have to finish reading orv and rewrite this first chapter to ever pick this up again.
BUT I will most likely be writing another fanfic(although it’s still in planning stage) so I haven’t completely given up on writing! Thank you for the support!!!

Chapter 1: Dokja

He was tired. He was so so tired.

Everyday the same cycle. Try, fail. He tried making friends with those kids. He even ignored them since adults said to be the “bigger person”. But even when it seemed like he won, he always turned back on him and told him to not murder them.
Why was this so hard? Why was life so hard?

Dokja opened his drawer. The threads were stable. Possibly the only stable thing in his life. He looked up to see his reflection in the screen. Did he always look like that? His eyebags looked heavy enough to lift dumbbells and his hair greasy enough to fry an omelette on.
He laughed in self-pity. Oh well, not like it’ll matter.

He once again looked up at the screen but instead saw his favorite webnovel site. Maybe, just one last try. He clicked onto the search engine. “How to survive”
Enter.

….

NO RESULTS

……

Why did he even try at this point?

He grabbed the rope from his drawer and dragged his chair under the ceiling fan. He stood on the chair and secured the rope. Time for the end that mattered.

Figure 8, loop, wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap, wrap, pass, lower, pull. Just like he practiced.

So this was…it? He thought there’d be more…suspence.
But he wasn’t going to back out. He was called a wuss too many times before.

He stood still for a moment to look at his room one final time. And kicked away the chair.

Air. Air was being choked out. He tried to hold himself up due to instinct, but eventually flopped back down. He was never very strong anyways.

Instead of light, he saw flickerings of darkness. They felt cold but peaceful.

In dark, he allowed himself to admit. He wanted to live. But not like this.

Notes:

(old/original author’s note) I’m tired……I’ll fix grammar in morning…maybe…if I remember….wahhhh….
As I said this is my first fanfic, so pls don’t flamethrow me in the comments….And I haven’t finished the novel yet so NO SPOILERS pls. Ty for reading ❤️