At first glance this looks more like John Holmes with a touch of frostbite than a death dealer.  To really appreciate it take closer look at the top (a.k.a. the Gaping Maw Of Doom):

Nature has inspired some of the most heinous chastity belts

Look familiar?  Here’s a quick refresher:

It’s basically a quadriplegic Predator, though that’s not to say they are entirely immobile.  Plants of this type have clambering vines with tendril-like leaf tips that allow it to climb on to surrounding vegetation.  That means that after it traps a creature with its plant fangs and slowly dissolves it in syrupy digestive enzymes, it can send out a hitman cousin out to take down the victim’s family.

The leaf on top baits newcomers with nectar only to introduce dangerously slippery footing.  It also has some very unusual markings:

This plant is a member of the genus "Nepenthes", which comes from Greek as an assembly of ne = not and penthos = grief or sorrow.  The name of the plant literally means "without remorse", presumably because the Greeks didn’t have a word for "stone cold killa".  Most of its body count is in the form of insects, but they have also been known to take down frogs and rodents.  With that sort of ambition how long will it be before they come after our children?

Doll’s Eyes

Lots of plants want to kill you.  This one wants to WATCH you die.

The entire plant is poisonous, but I can’t bring myself to acknowledge the lethality while it’s looking at me.  Sure, ingestion of the berries sedates the heart into cardiac arrest, but I’m not sure that matters when its cold, disembodied eyes are feeding on my soul.

The only way to make a more disturbing plant would be to harvest what was left of the dolls this plant cannibalized:

Manchineel

In Spain these trees are known as "manzanilla de la muerte", or  "little apple of death", though the apples should be the least of your worries.  The fruit can be fatal if eaten, but this tree is more concerned with maiming you before you even get to it.

The tree secretes a toxin that causes blistering when in contact with any damp patch of skin.  Imagine that during rainfall when Caribs lashed you to the tree as a form of torture.  They also used the sap to poison their blowgun darts and the leaves to poison enemies’ water supplies.   (It is almost certain the Caribs would still have been total dicks even the tree didn’t exist, but we can’t be sure.)

In case the subtleties above have been missed, here’s a quick physiology review of the manchineel trees:

One can’t help but wonder why we’ve allowed these edifices to biohazard to persist.  After all, you don’t need to touch them to send them to a fiery grave, right?  As luck would have it, the smoke produced by these trees is also toxic enough to cause blindness.  Don’t let that discourage you – despite what my psychiatrist says, I assure you that most of life’s problems can still be solved with fire.

Hudson Pear Cactus

Anyone who’s encountered the business end of a cactus can assure you it isn’t pleasant.  Imagine one that dials up the unpleasantometer to "impalement" and you’ve got the Hudson Pear Cactus.

The Hudson Pear Cactus is basically the Wolverine of the plant world. It has formidable 2-inch spines known to pierce workboots and tires, let alone your flesh.  They’ve killed koalas who tumble into them and claims exist that they’ve killed a man as well.  (NOTE: The man technically died of a heart attack after falling into one, so he may have been the delicate type who would’ve perished upon hearing his shoes and belt didn’t match.  Still, a kill is a kill.)

The presence of adamantium in the cactus is presumed, but not confirmed

The cactus has been employed as a security device by opal miners to prevent access to their diggings.  Let that sink in for a moment – rather than employ a human sentry or rabid junkyard dog, they used this plant to guard their precious gemstones.

Even the miners may have underestimated the cacti’s rage toward mankind though.  In an apparent effort to poke and prod us into adopting life in the ocean, this cactus doubles its area of coverage every five years.  By cactus standards, that’s spreading like a virus.  A virus with KNIVES.

"This used to be a nice neighborhood before those ebola punks moved in."

Ian Cheesman is finally striking a blow for justice against the tyranny of fauna-centric blogging.  Join his quest at Internet Sensation dot com.