yuggoth | ( EXECUTION - THE BEGINNING OF AN END )

At 8:00 AM, Heather, Girge and Andersen will be gently roused awake like all other Sunday mornings. Akane Kurashiki is nowhere to be found, but the faceless men will stop by to serve each of the survivors a grand breakfast to start their day. They will be allowed to do as they please until 9:00 AM, when Craftly's voice will be heard over the static filled P.A. system.

"Good morning, residents. I hope you were able to sleep, despite... the unfortunate circumstances surrounding this day. I will be waiting for you in the parking lot. Please do try to be hasty. My men will escort you if necessary."

And as promised, Craftly will be waiting for all three of them in the parking lot. A brightly lit torch will be held in one of his hands, and he motions for them to follow him with a tilt of his head. Without hesitation, he approaches the fog — and watches as it parts to create a narrow path. Any resident that's unwilling to follow him will find their body moving on their own, and within the next fifteen minutes, all four of them will be threading down unfamiliar paths. More specifically, the path that leads to Lake Crotin.

It doesn't take long for them to reach the clearing next to the lake. And once they do, the fog surrounds them once again, blocking off their only exit.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It takes a moment for Heather's words to reach Akane. She hadn't really noticed the others there, barely even registers the pain from being strung up like this. She knows what's about to happen, what has to happen, and the terror of it overpowers everything.

She burned so many times in countless histories. She spent so long stuck between the fire and freedom, taking nine years of hard work and broken trusts to escape from that fate. It's not right that it has to happen again, after everything she's gone through. It's not fair.

Life is simply unfair, isn't it?

She imagines Zero II's voice and almost laughs through the tears mixing with the oil on her face. In a horrible kind of way, it's actually appropriate. After everything she's done, perhaps it is only right that she earns salvation for her world by passing through fire once more.]

Do it.

[Her voice is weak, cracking with fear and pain, but she hopes Heather can hear it.

There's only one way this is going to end.]

[ a plain answer, one that gives her very little direction — but it at least told her that akane was complacent to this. that she wanted it to end, and for it to be swift. she could pick up on that much, and she had to do her best to deliver that. it'd be selfish to leave her hanging there, for her trial by fire to be extended any longer.

she rises to her feet, using her wristband to wipe away snot gathering around her nose. she hobbles towards the supplies, and picks up the lighter fluid. she stares at it for an overlong moment, like she's in a daze or unresponsive, then flips the cap off. this was almost like cooking. it made her think of making soup every week with hajime and sharing it with quer — akane had tried the soup once. she weirdly hoped she liked it, and wished she could be sitting near the pool sharing another bowl with her.

almost methodically, she pours some lighter fluid onto the wood, flicking her wrist to send it a little farther — she's not looking while she does it. it hurts too much. right now, her insides were alight with fury and unfulfilled wishes, and she's on the verge of vomiting fire and emptiness.

ironic, she thought, that her death by fire brought about the end of a town's splendor, and this fire would bring about the continued prosperity of another. but now wasn't the time to dwell on things like irony and asceticism. it was time to kill someone.. to make them into martyr. she keeps flicking the lighter fluid until the canister is empty, her way of stalling.. she was still so scared, and her hands were shaking like a wet dog.

before she grabs the torch, she rustles through her pockets and pulls out two things — a butterscotch candy and a cigarette. her very last one. she plops the butterscotch in her mouth and tears up a little more as cloying sweetness melts into her melancholy. she wished akane had a free hand so she could have given it to her instead. she deserved it. ]

Okay. Is there.. anything you wanna say? Or should I just.. y'know.

[ as she says this, she puts the cigarette in her mouth and leans close to the torch, then takes a drag that melts her mind like the butterscotch in her mouth.

she grabs the torch. ]

[Every second waiting is full of agony. Accepting her fate brings no relief, just a sharper awareness of what's happening: the nails through her hands and feet, the strain of her position, the tearing of skin and muscle with every movement. And, of course, the fire. It's so close she can almost feel the heat already.

Is there anything she wants to say? She wants to curse the Unclean for forcing them to go through with this. Curse every stupid murderous cult in every world everywhere. Curse herself for volunteering for execution instead of just dying with everyone else, curse Heather for taking the role of executioner.

She wants to apologise to everyone she's hurt, in games of her own design as well as in this one. Perhaps Quer might even hear her if she did.

She wants to call for her brother, for Junpei, even though they're universes out of reach. She wants to tell them she loves them.

She says none of it, because it doesn't matter. She's coming back soon anyway.]

P-please... just...

[The words are even fainter than before, barely more than sobs.]

[ she feels like an idiot for even asking. for extending akane's pain. it's like another knife in her gut. she wanted to give akane something honorable, something painless, but with fire? she knew that was impossible. it would be painful, and agonizing, and shameful — burning at the stake was not only done for witches, but as a way to display wrongdoing to the masses, to dissuade others from committing the same crimes. it was.. making an example out of someone.

she would say something to akane to reassure her, tell her she's so fucking good at dying and resurrecting that it'd be over in an instant, but it didn't matter. she was sure akane didn't want to hear it, and she wasn't sure she had the words or wherewithal to organize them into a coherent phrase. moments like this? they were without language.

without hesitation, she chucks the torch as far as she can throw it — she doesn't want to have to go get it, to prolong this horrible situation. she wanted this to end. she wanted it all to end. that was coming next, she reminded herself. this was just today's appetizer.

instead of running away, she finishes her cigarette. she's almost catatonic for a moment. what was the point of getting out of the way? of hurrying? even if she died, well.. she knew it wouldn't matter at this point. she'd throw caution to the wind for now. just.. exist, and be. the smell of her cigarette's filter burning intermingled with the wood's flame and the rapid decay of the giant stake. it was so hot. oppressively hot. but somehow, she felt cold right now. ]

[The flames consume the oil-drenched wood, eagerly climbing the stake higher and higher. Fast as they're coming, Akane is hung high enough that the heat and smoke reach her first. It's enough to break what composure she'd managed to hold onto, and she cries out in terror in the brief moment of anticipation before the fire catches her.

As the oil covering her immolates, her cries turn to agonised screams. She's no longer here - she's in the incinerator again, just a terrified child dying for the sake of a madman's curiosity. She screams until there are no screams left, but no one can come save her.

It feels like an eternity for her, but in reality it does not take long at all before there's nothing left of the pyre but ashes and charred remains. Akane Kurashiki is dead.]

( EXECUTION - THE BEGINNING OF AN END )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject