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( EXECUTION - WEEK 1 )
 Unlike the previous day, those who are asleep past 8:00 AM will experience no pain as they're roused awake. Instead, they're pulled from their sleep peacefully, almost as if enveloped in a mother's loving embrace. A comfortable warmth spreads through their body as they open their eyes, finding themselves free of any grogginess or disorientation. Similarly, those who woke up early or were unable to sleep at all will find themselves alert and ready to take on the day. Considering what is about to transpire, however... no one would be blamed for wishing they could stay asleep. Just like the previous day, residents who do not make their way to the Dining Hall before 8:15 AM will be forcibly escorted out of their rooms (or wherever else they may be). True to Craftly's words, one of the faceless men will be waiting in the Dining Hall while all the current survivors gather. Once everyone is there, with the exception of Hana Song, the staff member will slip a transparency into the projector, switching the device on to reveal what appears to be a telegram.
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EXECUTION (cw: death by boiling)
This horrifying experience lasts all of two (2) seconds.
When everyone opens their eyes once again, they'll be in the middle of a clearing next to a lake. A nearby sign identifies it as Lake Crotin, but the thick fog surrounding the area makes it hard to see the other end of the lake. Trees and heavy foliage circle the clearing, but again, the fog makes it impossible to see what's in the distance. Despite this, the sun can be seen in the horizon, almost as if witnessing the events that are about to transpire.
As fascinating as the scenery is, however, residents might be more captivated by the sight in front of them. A large wood platform is set on the bank of the lake, attached to an old industrial crank. Underneath the platform's left side is a large cauldron. A raging fire is lit, burning against the cast-iron bottom to a particularly green substance that boils over the edge ever-so-slightly. The toxic green bubbles burst repeatedly, bringing the assumption this is of a high temperature.
Unfortunately, the focus isn't the fire. The crank's copper wiring leads down — down to a body bound by an old straight jacket. The body? None other than Hana Song. Her brown hair a mess as it falls directly down and her vision turned topsy turvy. Hana's sobbing, screaming in pain — why? If the crowd focuses on the right details, they'll notice the hook of the crank is plunged strictly into her back. Blood trickles down her neck, mixing with the green below.
Faceless men block access to the platform and crank, with Craftly standing a couple paces away from the group, keeping anyone who might want to interfere out... as well as keeping those inside the perimeter in. Trapped on the platform is Light Yagami. Next to him is a wooden sign, with drawn instructions featuring a man turning the crank while a stick figure is lowered into a boiling pot of water. The art style may seem familiar to some.
Coming from both nowhere and everywhere at once, an unpleasant, nauseating voice speaks all those who are present. It is not Craftly's voice. It cannot even be classified as a human voice. The longer it's heard, the worse the sensation becomes.]
L҉O̷͘͡WÈ̸͡R̕ ͘T̶͠H̡͘͢E͢͡ ̶GI̵̢R̶̀L̨̡͞
͢
̵̴R͟͠E̴P̵AY͠ T̢͢H̸͞E̡͠ ̷B̨ĹƠ͝͠O͏D͢͠
[The message is clear. Now it's up to the Executioner to decide what to do.]
( This thread is for the majority vote and executioner only. If you wish to react, feel free to post your own top level. )]
no subject
He’s woken up to nothing short of a nightmare after that horrifying experience in the dining hall. Immediately, Light takes note of his surroundings, trying to parse everything around him, trying to understand what’s expected of him — playing the part of executioner, as displayed on the projector prior.
Screaming and sobbing fills his ears, and he looks to see a body strung up, blood trickling downwards with the gentle ease of gravity. Hana Song, he immediately connects, and the empathy and horror that should be swelling up in his chest comes delayed and subdued. Outwardly, though, the tension is clear on his face. The sinking comprehension of what is expected of him, looking at the simplistic drawings, the crank, and the boiling hot… something he’s supposed to lower her into.
This isn’t how he operates. Killing an innocent woman, someone undeserving of this kind of cruelty. And yet, what’s to happen to him if he doesn’t? And as it always is, self-preservation takes priority over everything in his mind, and it’s a little disturbing how quickly Light has already committed himself to seeing this through. Besides — god, her screams. This is a mercy killing.
Of course, he can’t just start lowering her into the boiling liquid without some semblance of horror. That would… raise a few eyebrows. And so:]
This is insane! What am I-
[He clenches his teeth, fists shaking.]
I can’t… do this to someone! This is cruelty for the sake of cruelty!
no subject
P-please do — do something —!
[ Was all she got out among her struggles, closing her eyes tightly. ]
no subject
Are you refusing the duty that has been bestowed upon you, good sir? I hardly need to remind you what the rules state.
[Get on with the program, is what he means. The clock's ticking!]
no subject
He looks at Hana, then to Craftly after he speaks, frowning. Yes, thank you, he remembers what the rules state; it's rather a priority that runs through his mind despite everything happening around him. He doesn't even respond to him, tearing his gaze back to Hana strung up.]
I... [Insert the most Conflicted expression right here.] You're going to die if I do this!
[Inane, obvious things like this are what people in a state of panic say, isn't it?]
no subject
no subject
Okay, time to make a decision, spurred on by the way that hook continues to rip into her skin. This really is a mercy killing, and while completing this execution as demanded is still going to draw unnecessary attention to him, just standing there in vacillation makes him appear even more cruel. The humane thing to do would be to put her out of her misery, and a glance to the peanut gallery a distance away confirms this, tenfold.
A hand to the crank, fingers curling around it, knuckles white.]
D-dammit... I'm sorry...
[He is sorry, in his own way. Angry that he's the one chosen to do this, irritated that the real killer is probably having one hell of a laugh to themselves right now. Under the surface it's frustration that compels him to finally move the crank, lowering her towards the boiling liquid.]
uses an appropriate icon
Inches turn into feet and it's not until Hana's hair hits the bubbling liquid that he can really feel he's taking part. The process was slow. Painfully slow. As Light tried his best, the first dunk singes at Hana's scalp and before she knows it, it was over. Her face, neck, and collarbone submerge in the vat of toxic goo, her skin peeling and bubbling itself. Her body convulses, squirming and — her body rips from the hook halfway. Light was successful getting a little under half before the spasms force her off the hook and into the cauldron. Only Light can see how her body's shape sinks to the bottom, unrecognizable as the blisters and boils eat away at her skin.
The fire is put out, leaving Hana's dead body at the bottom. ]
no subject
Once the job is done, his hands release the lever of the crank as if it were burning hot, and he turns away from the sight. A hand moves up to his mouth, as if he might be sick from the experience.
Job done, now to deal with the inconvenience of attention that'll probably come his way. Yay.]
no subject
10 minutes after Hana has been executed, everyone will suddenly be afflicted with a strong, disorientating sense of tiredness. Their sight will blur, knees giving in as everyone crumples to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. The stench of burnt flesh invades their sense of smell, and little by little... They lose consciousness.
All survivors will wake up in their respective beds at 11:00 AM, as if nothing happened. Someone even tucked them in. How nice.]