What Is Asphyxia In Horror Movies?

I’m the heroine in an erotic story. My specialty? Turning anything hot or cold into something steamy. On the first day I landed in a horror game, the boss told everyone to choose how they wanted to die. I smiled and said, “I’ll take shortness of breath, trembling legs, glazed eyes, and… pleasure so intense I die from it.” Boss: “???”

On Halloween, I was secretly reunited with my long-lost mafia parents. They offered to take me home, but because I couldn't bear to leave the three brothers in my foster family, I refused to go with my parents. Getting back home, I changed into the white dress and bracelet given to me by my brothers as gifts. However, this triggered the jealousy and crying tantrums of their biological sister, Tiana. To avoid putting my brothers in a difficult position, I agreed to take off the dress and bracelet. Despite that, she wasn't satisfied. To appease their biological sister that they had been separated from for years, my three brothers forcefully locked me inside a transparent decorative coffin, despite knowing that I suffered from severe claustrophobia. Suffocating, I frantically banged on the coffin's glass, begging them for help. Tiana stood on the side, smirking at me maliciously. "Sarah, aren't you a professional actress? Why is your acting so exaggerated and fake? You're just locked inside, not being strangled, so why are you gasping?" My brothers knit their brows in annoyance. "It's just a little prank. How can you not even last ten minutes? Can't you just tolerate it for a bit?" "I checked it myself. The coffin has air vents and we're standing right here watching you the whole time! You won't be in any danger, and it's impossible for you to suffocate!" "If you didn't want to make Tiana happy, you could have just said you aren't willing! There's no need to fake being miserable and pitiful just to get our attention and sympathy!" But I wasn't faking. The phobia triggered a severe stress response and it brought on an asthma attack, cutting off my airway. Through the glass, I looked at them in sheer agony and despair. I was really going to die...

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

I had just been discharged from surgery for a collapsed lung when my boyfriend took me to a childhood friend’s birthday party. At the party, he yanked off my ventilator and used it to inflate party balloons. My chest seized violently, as if my lung had been torn open. Justin Miller turned to Sophie Shaw proudly and said, “See? This is so much easier than blowing them up with your mouth.” I gripped the doorframe. I was gasping as my vision blurred. “Justin, I need that to survive! I can’t breathe!” His expression darkened. “Sophie was kind enough to invite you to her birthday party. Know your place! Besides, she put in a lot of effort for this day and spent hours preparing for it. Are you really going to ruin the celebration?” I struggled to speak through the pain. “Is her surprise more important than my life?” I extended a trembling hand toward the ventilator, but Justin waved it aside. He said impatiently, “I already checked. You won’t die from holding your breath for just a moment. Don’t be so selfish!” At that moment, pain stabbed me in the chest, and I used every ounce of my strength to press the emergency call button my brother had given me.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

When I first started at Serenity Hills, the head nurse told me coma patients paid well—but the job was messy and brutal. They could only get IV nutrition. Screw that up, and you're basically killing them. Today was day thirty of looking after the girl. Young. Gorgeous. Like always, I hit the nurse's station to grab her IV bags— But then I saw it. Thirty glucose bottles gone. IV nutrition? Still sealed. Chills shot down my spine.