( 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]

[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.]