( EXECUTION - WEEK 3 )

[abhoth]

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. "Good morning. My staff and I hope you were able to sleep well. As promised, an execution will take place on this fine day. Please make your way to the Dining Hall. A member of our distinguished staff will be waiting for you with a summary of last night's results." 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 Mira, the staff member will slip a transparency into the projector, switching the device on to reveal what appears to be a telegram. VICTIM STOP MARTY MIKALSKI STOP THE BOOTLEGGER STOP VICTIM STOP RACHEL CLAUDIUS STOP THE ATHLETE STOP MAJORITY VOTE STOP MIRA STOP THE GHOST STOP EXECUTIONER STOP JAKE ENGLISH STOP INNSMOUTH MOTEL & CO ( quick navigation ) ic rulebook | locations | statuses | room assignments private conversations | ic profiles | graveyard | full navigation

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[potentite]

[It's incredible to him that she can still think, let alone talk. He wishes he could tell her that. He heard her say she's broken and she probably is, he can't deny that, and even if it's for her own sake that she's focusing and helping him, he wishes he could say something, anything, to make her realise—

Realise what? That she's not as bad as she thinks when she's a serial killer who deserves to die? Fuck, he doesn't know, he just wishes he could do something for her that wasn't literally tearing out her guts as fast as possible. It's bloody, there's blood dripping down the knife onto his hands, getting them slick, but he just grips tighter so it won't let him falter. He can't. He just has to do this.]

Got it.

[It's barely audible, clipped and bitten off before he can apologise more. She might not have heard it but he had to answer her when she's trying this hard. He uses the blade's curve to catch the skin and connect them like she said. He doesn't know where the aorta is, he wishes he did more than anything right now, but he thinks - he hopes - that he can catch it if he just cuts enough. It's a terrible way to do it but if he has the blade in her anyway, he might as well try to hook it against whatever he feels and hope.]

[perceptions]

[If she could talk before, it was only through sheer will and force. Yet once he starts cutting the middle, the cuts connecting together in a full length slice around her abdomen, that's when she can no longer say a word. The pain is unbearable, and she can faintly hear the blood flowing out from her gut and hitting the platform. What she can't see, but Jake certainly will, is the sight of her intestines beginning to fall out from her gut with the rush of blood now pouring out. Her skin begins to faintly lose color, blood draining and body going into shock.

Yet she cannot writhe. The chains don't allow it. Her body only convulses a little, going into shutdown, before her head finally bobs down as much as the chains around her neck will allow. Even if she isn't dead, she will be soon from blood loss alone.

But Jake's deed isn't done yet. He still has to quarter and decapitate her. Only now he won't get instructions anymore on what to do. No one to console or help him through the rest.]

[potentite]

[Bile rises up in his throat - he didn't dare eat before this - and settles heavy on his tongue but his mouth is snapped shut so tight he's forced to swallow it down without registering it. Her guts start to fall with the cascade of blood and he almost tries to step back, to get away, but luckily, with one crutch and one good leg, he really can't. His own body makes him stay.

There's a pause where nothing happens, save the movement of her guts and blood. Jake raises his eyes from the gore to look at her but she's not really there anymore.]

Mira...?

[If his words were soft before, this time they're no more than a twitch of his lips. What the hell was he expecting? He wanted this. He wanted to hit it right so this would happen. But his shoulders shake as his vision blurs. It's stupid and cruel and selfish to wish she could have held out a little longer. It's too much to wish he wasn't alone now. He doesn't let himself think it for more than a second before he hooks the knife in deeper and tugs to get her guts out better, wincing, before he switches to the other knife, the cleaver.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'll hurry—

[He doesn't think she can even hear him anymore and that's good. That's good for her. She'll be gone soon. And she said she'd be fine. She was a murderer and he tries to remember that as he starts to hack at one of her arms, just below the shoulder joint, hoping it will be easiest there. He has to keep switching between the cleaver for the flesh and the saw for the bones, working at one arm, then the other, then the legs and then the head. By the time her head falls loose, he's covered in blood, exhausted from his own crying. The movement startles him but in the end, it's just like when his grandma's corpse would jump in the flames. He double checks the instructions, to make sure he did everything, to be sure he won't be punished by whatever beasts are here before he slips down to sit right there next to her corpse, staring out at the lake. Mira might be gone but Jake is definitely not all there himself.

He won't be for a while.]