Dramatic Death Scenes!

Peter

Even with my eyes shut, I couldn't block out the image; the sound was horrible enough. My stomach turned over, and I felt the color drain from my face. What had I done...? But it was this or his eyes... Argh!

Mr.Face:

"Alright..." I wiped off my hands on some random piece of fabric again. All that blood...I think I was going to run up a drycleaning bill again. "Well. We again are in need of some options I am assuming. My Prisoner. Your choices are Eyes...Because...I just found this tuning fork and...Am experiencing extreme nostalgia for Eye gouging...Or...Spine removal?" I asked.

Cricket
I could feel myself quivering, half out of pain, half out of horror. I couldn't do that to Peter. It was an utter nightmare. I was mounted in front of an enemy like some insect on display, completely torn apart, and he was asking me to . . . I couldn't do this. I kept my eyes tightly closed. I couldn't look at Peter. I couldn't do this.

Just one word, and it would be over . . . quicker. I could manage that.

But he was my friend.

But we were going to die anyway.

That was right . . . we were dead anyway. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, as a matter of fact, and as for the matter of what would happen to Peter . . . I took a breath.

"Eyes."

Mr.Face:

Well. I was going to get to use that tuning fork after all. Lovely. I pulled my wooden bench closer to My Hostage before sitting down and putting a hand on his face. It would be an absolute nightmare if I missed his eye entirely due to my own negligence. Not to mention that eye gouging after you've already cracked a cheekbone...is a bit of a mess.
After taking a moment to ascertain for sure where his eye was, I drove the tuning fork into the ocular cavity at a 45 degree angle, did some skillful wiggling of the tuning fork, and pulled back. Really not a lengthy process if you know what you're doing. I went ahead and repeated on the other side.
It was actually quite fun normally listening to people react to sudden blindness. As if that was the worst part of their situation. Pfft. As if this were some kind of condemnation. It always made me laugh. Sight must have really been some kind of privelige.

Peter

Sesria, I thought as he prepared to...to... please take control of my voice and mouth.

Peter... She didn't continue. Right away, I felt her reaching through our mental link. ...I-I've done it.

Thank you.

Gods, his hands were cold...but the chill of his hideous hands couldn't come close to the chill that was spreading through my body. And the worst part was...I couldn't look away.

And then the tuning fork.

AAAAUGH! I cried in my head. Everything was black... I was surrounded by a sea of nothing. I was blind.

But no sound came from my voice box. And my mouth didn't move in the slightest.

Sesria...smirk for me, will you?

I felt a corner of my mouth twitch up in a smug smile.

Mr.Face:

And I'd almost moved my hand too. Almost. And then...He moved. It was subtle. Just a twitch. A smile. I'm quite certain that that is the polar opposite of screaming.
I almost wanted to yell. Almost.
I refrained from yelling.
Barely.
Instead the tuning fork clattered to the floor, as did the hand on My Hostage's face. "Why. Aren't. You. SCREAMING." I stood up in irritation, nearly knocking over my workbench. "You should be screaming." It was a fact. Statistically. I had kept records. This was an anomaly I could not stand for.

Cricket
I looked up at that. Oh bother Peter. I'd been wondering the same thing. He would just make Mr. Face mad, and then more bad things would happen . . . oh no.

But see . . . it didn't matter, anyhow.

"Mr. Face . . . no need t' throw a fit. It appears you're th' one screaming now . . . and you look aweful funny when you're outwardly frustrated. If only you could see it."

Spades
I pulled up in the van to Wayne Manor in the dead of night. I had taken out all security systems easily enough. Why was I here again? To gloat to Batman? To laugh at him? I wasn't sure. All I knew is that I felt.. different then I did this morning. Not a new person, just... different. I stepped out of the car, strolled to the front door, and knocked.

Peter

"This is Sesria speaking through Peter," Sesria said...with my mouth. Which was a really weird feeling. "I've taken control of his ability to speak. You can do all you want, but you won't get him to scream."

If only I could see Mr. Face flipping out...but I was completely blind now. Still, it was very gratifying just to know that I had really ticked him off.

I felt warm liquid streaming from my eye...sockets. If I didn't know any better, I would've said that they were tears. But I knew better.

Marley
I stood outside cell block five dressed in all black: black skullcap, black long sleved shirt, black jeans, black belt, and black combat boots. There was also one of those BA machinemgun ammo thins draped diagonally across my chest. In my belt were two air horns. In my hands? A machine gun. Yes, I repeat: I had a machinengun. I smirked to myself, slipping on the obligatory pair of sun glasses before blastingnthe door to kingdom come
"The cavelry is here, boys. Sorry I'm late, traffic was a nightmare" then I tossed the gun to one side and jumped on Mr Faces back, pressing one air horn to each ear and delivering a blast that would easily stun him, and cause at LEAST temporary deafness. I slid off his back, kicking him between the legs for good measure "Oh, and I'll be back for that apple juice you owe me later" I then dropped the air horns and Unchained Peter and Cricket, and gotnT.Mor from the other room. Then we all walked off together in the distant sunset, alive and fre-

Endellion
Shut up, Marley, and let them get back to business

Marley
But I was just getting to the part with llamas and explosives!

Endelkion
Insigh' putting Marley back into my head "Sorry about that, people. Proceed as normal"

((Ende...you are my hero xD You too, Marley!

Peter: "You know, I kind of liked that scene better..."))

((Cricket: "Waitpardon. Can I 'ave my intestines back b'fore we walk out?"))

((Peter: "Yeah...I'd kind of like my eyes, too...or it'll be more like stumbling into the sunset for me... Also, I really don't know what just happened there--only that it involved not dying. And an airhorn. Could someone--?"

I'll explain it in the chatbox...))

((Methinks it may be time to go get T.Mor...For Maximum betrayal fun.

Also...You guys...That was a wonderful bout of OOC.))

Mr.Face:

My Prisoner was telling me not to throw a fit, and My Hostage seemed to suddenly be in need of an exorcism. Really...what else could go wrong? I now only had 1 of 2 hostages who would actually react...and I didn't have any tinned Pea Soup...Which if I do recall correctly, is intergal to any successful exorcism. I realise that 50% is passing in some school systems, but...Really this was not as...fun.
I felt as though I needed to construct another sign. 'Not screaming is an option, but is frowned upon on principle. Those PVC Pipes are there for a reason.' Yes. As soon as I was caught up with everyone in cellblock 5...I was creating those signs too.
I remembered that I had Mr.Namechov agonizing over a moral decision across the hall. That at least would be funny. And then...Depending on his answer, I would either have 2 dead prisoners and an employee, or 2 of 3 who could scream.
Which would have raised me up to 66%, I do believe.
"I am NOT throwing a fit." I told My Prisoner. "I do believe it is your turn to choose though...My Hostage...Pardon me...You claim to be someone else. What did you say it was? Sesria?"

T.Mor:

Well...If I killed them...It would probably just be point blank range. With my gun. This would be like...a walk in the park compared to Mr.Face's... erm... strategy. And I mean...I wouldn't be around long anyway afterward...Just long enough to tell my sister to run. Give her all my money...and get her on a monorail out of this place.
But this still felt wrong. It felt so wrong.
But it was better than letting us all get killed by Mr.Face...Right?
But if that meant I was a bad friend...
...We were all dead anyway.
What did it matter in the short term?
I pulled myself together enough to go over to the door and start banging on it. "Mr.Face!...ERM...I've...I've decided." My voice caught in my throat a bit.
This really was going to suck either way.

Alfred paused at the computers of the Batcave, looking at the alert. The cameras had been taken out though. Someone at the door then. He takes up his tray, walking up the stairs to the grandfather clock and locking the entrance. Cautiously he glances out the window, his eyes widening shocked a moment before picking up the phone from the table.
"Sir. You may want to come back. We have a...surprise guest..."
After confirmation, he puts the phone back, tucks the tray under his arm. Going to the door, he looks down upon the girl, face void as usual. "Miss Ace. To what do we owe this visit?" He asks politely, as if it wasn't a wanted criminal at the door right then.

Peter

"I'm only speaking through him," Sesria said with my mouth. "He's still Peter; he just isn't in control of his voice anymore. I am."

It was such a weird feeling... My mouth was moving, seemingly of its own accord. I knew that that wasn't the case, of course...but that's what it felt like.

Cricket
Oh Peter. That was cheating. That was also brilliant, and I would have smiled . . . but I was a bit too dizzy. My mind was a bit muddled with numb black spots. "You lose that battle, Mr. Face . . . no screams for you," I said drowsily.

T.Mor:

I knew he could hear me. I knew he could. He was just...I dunno...Doing something or something. The thought of this being so trivial for him made me kind of sick inside, but...really what could I expect? He was Mr.Face.
Well...Then maybe I could still change my mind. Again.
No.
Why...Why not though?
No. I have a sister.
I also have...well...had...friends.
I knocked on the door out of my cell again. "MR.FACE!! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!! I'VE DECIDED!!" I yelled, my face pressed up against the narrow window on the door.

Mr.Face:

"I have other--" I heard something. It did not involve ellipsis. Hm. I cut myself off mid-response to deliver some news. "It seems to me that Mr.Namechov has reached a decision...So, Excuse me for a moment while I go...retrieve him." Shame. I could have gone on with the torture all night. Although...This was probably going to be just as compelling. Mr.Namechov tended to be quite...distraught over things like this.

T.Mor:

I was almost hit in the head by the door opening. That said, I was a shaky mess by the time Mr.Face actually opened the door, and walked in.

"Well?" Mr.Face asked me simply cutting right to the chase. He had blood spattered across his unface, and it was somewhat nauseating to look at. He must have been preoccupied with someone else.

"I'm...I'm...I'm..." I couldn't even say it. I was a monster. A horrible...terrible monster. But...At the same time...This would probably be easier...Than...Than whatever Mr.Face had in store for them. "I'm..."

"Mr.Namechov...I do not have all night. And as much as your elliptical speech entertains me, I do not want to spend the next 45 minutes feeling like I am torturing you for information that you are trying to put forth willingly. Especialy because I'm not actually harming you." He explained hastily. As if he had somewhere to be. Or something.

I took another breath. I did not feel like I had enough air in my lungs. At all. "I'm... I'm taking the 36 hour shift on monday..." My voice trembled horribly. But...At least I hadn't outright SAID it...I mean...It sounded so much worse when you said it.

And...It wasn't like I'd actually be around for the 36 hour shift on monday anyway...I felt tears roll down my face. I didn't want to kill them. At all.

But it was better than giving us all up to Mr.Face...Right? I mean...A bullet to the head is less bad than...I dunno...Acid in your wounds...or whatever Mr.Face also did...I...I hoped that they'd understand that...Maybe if I could get Mr.Face out of the room I could even tell them that. Maybe they'd understand I was just trying...trying to make things suck less in the short term...

Or...you know...They'd hate me.

"Excellent." He handed me a mask. And a pistol. Wonderful. If he didn't supply dakka, I would have had some kind of seisure. At that point I was basically only able to function on the principle that it wasn't a monstrosity if I was saving them from something worse. I mean...That made...Sense...Right?...Right?

Cricket
. . . T.Mor?

My heart sped. Oi my my. No T.Mor. T.Mor couldn't see this! Mr. Face had lied, he'd lied, and T.Mor couldn't-- He would-- No! I couldn't do this, I couldn't see T.Mor again like this--

Stop! Thinking! I wrenched my arms in the chains, breath quivering when the metal clawed into my wrists even more. That was enough to distract myself, for a small moment. I hung my head, focusing on the lingering sting. Don't think. I tried not to wince as I slowly twisted my wrists a bit more.

Peter

Oh gods...T.Mor couldn't be coming in here! No, this was just...argh! What would... I didn't even want to think about how he would react... The poor guy had already had an internal battle about whether or not he should kill his friends!

I was suddenly glad that I didn't have to actually see T.Mor's face. I kept my eyelids shut and my head low so my hair covered my eye sockets. Maybe he wouldn't notice that my eyes were sitting next to me...at least, I thought that they were, anyway.

T.Mor:

I pulled on my mask and followed Mr.Face out of the cell. At least with the mask...At least with the mask they wouldn't be able to see my face. They wouldn't be able to see what a mess I was.

Walking across the hall seemed to take forever. Part of me wanted to just drop the gun and run...But then...My sister. And...again...That wouldn't achieve anything...

Mr.Face pulled the door open.

Oh internet.

No. Nononononononononono. He...No. No.

He...He lied.

"Treason is a two way street you know." Mr.Face sounded terribly distant, and I realised what this was. Reciprocation. He...He had probably...I dunno...Decided I deserve this...I was nauseous. Not even from the gore...Although...That was doing a pretty good job of turning my stomach too...

I....Wasn't making anything better. There was no better from here. This...This was...I tried to leave the room so I could go throw up. Mr.Face was blocking the exit....Looking only slightly guilty. "It really did hurt to lie to you like that...Especially after My Hostage refused to scream."

"Shut up." I muttered, as I realised that my pistol had clattered to the floor in the last several seconds. It was nearly unintelligible through tears.

"But you see...You deserved it..." Mr.Face stated the obvious. "You are guilty of treason, Remember?"

"I...I know..." I mumbled, trying to be less indecipherable. I somehow managed to get my hands back on the pistol, trying not to look at any of my friends' gore. It would have just made the nausea worse. I caught a glimpse of something that looked like an eye.

I...I...I pretended that was a hallucination. Only way to keep from...Losing...whatever I had left.

"I'm...I'm...I'm..." Crap. I couldn't even talk to them. I was too...ugh. I didn't even know a word for it. "I'm...I'm....I'm...I'm...I'm..I..."

Spades
I grinned "I'd like to talk to Mr Wayne, if you don't mind. I know where his ward is" Yea, in a body bag in the back of my van

Alfred's tray /almost/ slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor. Almost, not quite though. It had been handy the last time she and the Joker decided to come here to ruin the place. His face remained, but his eyes flashed with some emotion, too quick to recognize.
"The study then?" He asks after a minute, opening the door slightly wider and gesturing inside with his free arm. "I'm sure Master Wayne will be back shortly."

XD I remember that story

Spades
"Thank you, Alfred" I said, smiling wider as I walked inside. This place was HUGE, just like I remembered. "And rest assured... this won't be a waste of Mr Wayne's time" I giggled

Alfred didn't like her laugh. Nothing about her, in fact. But he lead her to a room, bookshelves lining the walls with a large desk. Couches sat in a square in front of it, with a red leather chair behind. "He'll be with you shortly," he said simply, closing the doors behind her.