Dramatic Death Scenes!

Asylum
"Haven't figured it out?" I whisper back, twisting the knife against his ribs, hearing things pop like Rice Crispys.
There's that point where even the strongest give up hope and say yes. Only then will I kill them. If they were even worth it. Some say yes and I allow them to bleed out. Suffer their last thoughts and fears.

Peter
More howls of pain. I could barely see anything anymore, and it sounded like I was underwater... But I had to hold out...had to... If I could make it until she left me for dead...if she left me for dead at all...Sesria could take over...
I think I tried to say something in response, but nothing came out.

Asylum
"Say yes. It's all going to end then. Otherwise I'm not stopping and it'll be death by a thousand paper cuts," i whisper to him, a smile on my face, eyes shining in amusement.

Peter
"You...you c-call these...p-paper cuts...?" I whispered.
Stay awake, Sesria urged, still crying. Just stay awake long enough...

Asylum
I giggle, poking his nose and leaving a little red dot. "Want me to do worse, Rudolph?"

Peter
"Who...?" I asked her, clinging to conciousness as hard as I could. My body blazed with pain as the blood seeped out around me...

Asylum
I raise an eyebrow. "No Rudolph? What are you, a Jehovah's Witness or something? Don't celebrate Christmas? You crazy?"

Peter
"Not from...around here..." I breathed. "B-but...I'm not...not Christian...either..."

Asylum
I pull the knife from his chest with a frown. "You're ridiculous, that's what you are," i say, drawing the knife slowly across his chin.

Peter
"Says...the one...b-brutalizing...a s-sixteen...year old...boy..." I told her.
My head...it felt so light...

Asylum
I narrow my eyes at him, putting the knife at the hollow of his neck and slicing down quick and deep, moving the knife to the left of his chest. "Don't call people names," i hiss, slowly plunging the knife in through his ribs. Slowly. Painfully.

Peter
"AAAAUGH!" I hollered in pure agony.
I could barely breathe...couldn't breathe... My heart fluttered erratically in my chest, and my tortured gasps came in rapidly and hoarsely. Blood leaked from my mouth, leaked from the wounds, pooled around me...
I tried to speak, but all that came out were rasping breaths.

Asylum
I sneer, leaving the knife through his heart. "Stupid. Should have said yes." I stand up, watching him bleed out quickly. The growing red puddle around him staining the concrete of the alleyway, running off in a spiderweb. Rivers of rubies... pretty...
I take the handle and pull it out, more blood, more rubies. "Stupid." I hold the knife to his neck. "Stupid boy." In a quick movement i slice him open. Watch him pour out pretty, pretty rubies...

Peter
I think I cried out in pain, but if I did, I didn't hear it... The pain...it exploded inside me in a blazing inferno... So much pain...
Crimson fluid gushed from my neck, both pouring out around me and flooding into my windpipe. I gagged and spluttered, choking on my own blood... My lungs...couldn't pump. No air...couldn't breathe... My heart...it couldn't beat... My life... I could feel it ebbing...
The hazy world around me started to fade. I heard footsteps in the distance...running... Did I hear footsteps...? Yelling...
...And then everything went black.


((About the running people... I found it odd that even though he's been shouting in extreme pain for a while now, nobody has really seemed to notice.))

Asylum
I whip the blade on his shoulder, getting most of the blood off and twirling it skillfully. I rather liked this prize...
I glance down the alleyway before going back to the fire escape, climbing up skillfully and disappearing in the shadows as the people come and gasp at the sight. Fear, Anxiety, Panic...they were fun emotions.... I think I like them best....

((And, just to close it all...))


Sarah

Things had looked bad back there, but the raid turned out successful in the end.

...Our team was still forced to scatter during the raid, regardless.

Senet and I had bumped into each other, so now we just needed to rejoin Peter and Nike. And the only way to do that? Searching on foot. I went one way, Senet went another, and our souls went a third direction. They stayed together, though, so we could keep in touch.

Bah... How long had I been walking? Seemed like ages. And all these streets looked the same! Ugh.

Hello, what was this? There was some kind of commotion up ahead. That was new. At this time of night? People were gathered around and talking excitedly, but not the good kind of excited. The panicked kind. They were clustered around what looked like the entrance to an alleyway. Curious, I approached the group.

"Hey, uh, what's going on here?" I asked a woman on the edge. Looked like she just rolled out of bed, pajamas and all.

"Oh, it's horrible!" she replied, a frantic look in her eyes. "A boy's been killed!"

"Wha?" I asked, my own eyes widening.

I started to push my way through the group. It seemed like a silly fear, but I had to...had to be sure. I made my way to the front, squeezing through and taking a look.

And releasing a loud, horrified scream.

He was lying in a pool of blood, covered in ghastly slashes and stabs. I couldn't see much in the darkness, but he looked like...he looked like... I didn't want to think about it. But I had to be sure. Feeling as though my legs weighed one ton each, I walked over to the body to take a closer look.

"No..." I whispered. "NO!"

I sank to my knees next to the victim, not caring that I was getting blood all over my legs. Tears sprang at my eyes and rolled down my cheeks; I didn't wipe them away. I was too numb.

His brown eyes were open, glassy and unseeing, and his face was frozen in a mixture of pain and fear. This wasn't real... This couldn't have been real... Someone, wake me up...

Someone, tell me that this isn't Peter.

My hands trembling and shoulders shaking, I grabbed him and pulled him close. I shut his eyes, holding him and sobbing as the rest of the world fell away.

Senet, I thought, making contact. Even the voice of my thoughts was weeping... I...I found Peter...

What's whrong?! Senet thought back, his voice filled with worry. Ees he okay?!

He...he's...

Out weez eet!

...He's...he's been murdered!

Silence.

What. Not a question; a simple utterance of total disbelief.

I found...found him...dead, Senet... He's gone...

I felt Senet's mind leave as he broke contact. I shut my eyes tightly, still clutching Peter's body and crying. I heard sirens in the distance...

Suddenly, the wind picked up. It went from nearly still to a raging gale in just a few seconds, roaring in my ears and carrying sorrowful, anguished howls.


-Le fin-

Format:
Name: T.Morbid Namechov
Age: Just...Go with 22.
Appearance: Kinda tall...Terrifingly underfed...Black hair, Pale grey eyes...Wears all black.
Species: Human.
Personality: AWKWARD.
Killer/Victim: Victim
Particular enemies: er...Employer/Hate relationship With Mr.Face...

Format:
Name: Mr.Face
Age: 70
Appearance: 8 feet tall, Faceless, White like a piece of paper, wears suits. Has a mouth full of POINTY POINTY TEETH.
Species: Human?...
Personality: Sociopathic sadist. Manipulative as crap. EVIL TO THE CORE. But honest...and polite...
Killer/Victim: Killer.
Particular enemies: None. He does it for the Evulz.

Name: Crooks
Age: 16ish
Appearence: Shaggy, dirty blonde hair, average height, lean but stronger than he looks. Usually wears reletively expensive clothes worn to shreds. Blue eyes. Charismatic smile. Rough hands, two fingers missing on his right. Occasionally wears some stolen article of jewelry or another.
Species: Human
Personality: Sociopathic.
Killer/Victim: Killer
Particular enemies: Cricket is one reletively, uh, close to his heart, but he has many many more. He also has a lot of friends.

Name: Cricket
Age: 14
Appearence: 5'5", shaggy black hair, carmelly, honeyish-colored puppy dog eyes, quirky grin, brand scar on his neck, often wears simple but beat-up clothes. Slender, but any meat he does have on his bones is muscle.
Species: Human
Personality: Quirky, happy-go-lucky for the most part but sometimes gets a little angsty.
Particular enemies: Crooks in particular. Many other nameless ones as well.

Screams. Just a faint realisation at first, like waking up to the sound of rain, only to lull back into shallow sleep. Cricket tried to ignore it. Another scream pierced the air, and drowsily his eyes fluttered open. A small window allowed one silver sliver of light to beam across the floor, but otherwise the room was gloomy as a black tomb. It was dream-like. He focused numbly on the light, and soon it became apparent that something was digging into his wrists. They were chains, he realised with an ache. Where...was he? Another scream sounded.

Mr.Face glided down the stairs to the 3rd sub-floor. He had his toolbox in one hand, and his other hand on the rusty and corroded hand rail. He was having a good day, and didn't even yell at anyone when he had to step over a decaying corpse on his way down the hall. He hoped the crematorim was still working...They were really starting to pile up.
Room 5...Room 5...He felt along the hallway casually, reading the raised letters encrusted across each of the cell doors. Ah. There it was. "Good afternoon." He said calmly as he threw the door open and walked in. It screeched shut behind him. Someone really needed to get those oiled. "I do sincerely hope that you weren't accidentally given a concussion by one of those uneducated oafs I call my employees. It would ruin the fun." He said to the occupant.

T.Mor:

T.Mor was halfway there. More than halfway, he suppoused. Halfway home, to where he could collapse on his mouldy old mattress and try not to have nightmares about the poor lady he dismembered today for about three hours, before giving up and lying awake again all night. Yay. He wasn't even paying attention to the route he took; There weren't that many new fires started today, so he didn't have to watch out as carefully as he normally did. He pulled off the white faceless mask that made up the scariest part of his guard uniform, and it dangled by his side as he walked.

Suddenly there was a burst of light, and a lanky silhouette in the doorway. There was only one person Cricket knew who talked like that. He could hear the sublte click of tooth against tooth. As he looked up at him, the drowsiness wore away to fluttery nervousy. "...Mr. Face," he greeted, and managed a quirky half-smile. "Fancy seeing you 'ere."

Mr.Face looked up at the voice. It appeared that his reputation preceded him. "Hello..." He responded quietly as he sat at a wooden bench, opening up his toolbox speculatively. "I do find it to be more...beneficial to the both of us if I allow you some imput on this..." He said to the teen strapped to the wall. " I have a screwdriver...and pliers...and of course the old standby, exacto knives. Which of the preceding did you find more desirable to have forcibly puncturing your skin and or removing teeth? I like to keep things as interactive as possible you see." He asked politely, as though this was just a matter of the weather.

Look there...look there.
The figure leaning in an alley swept a strand of greasy hair away from his eyes, studying the passerby.
What a...beautiful mask.
Crooks' lips curled into a friendly smile and he slipped out of the alley. "Oi. Sir, there! No need t' worry, I just couldn't 'elp but notice what an intruiging mask you're carrying." His eyes twinkled charismatically.

"You've never seen this mask before?" T.Mor broke from his reverie to acknowledge the vagrant. Probably in for the rioting, he thought. "It's the mask that all of the government hides behind." He said emotionlessly. "Don't ask me for money because I haven't got any either, by the way." He added. People sometimes got funny ideas about things like that once they knew you worked for the government and weren't currently on duty. Acknowledging that you were dirt poor too sometimes alleviated that problem.