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[x] kill her
She steps toward you.
You scream, silently. Your mouth is wide opened as though its bellowing and incredibly savage roar. And yet, nothing comes out from your mouth. Not a single sound. Or maybe it’s just that you can’t hear it, because at that moment, the only thing you can hear is the pounding of blood in your ears. A powerful, rhythmic beat that drowns out everything else, rumbling and beating so hard against your ears that you feel as if your head is quaking along with every step.
But still, she steps forward. She reaches out to you, talks to you with soothing words. She showers you with kindness, with attention, with love. Even as you scream and thrash in agony, she does not stay away. She holds you by your shoulders. She looks into your eyes. She parts her lips to speak to you gently, with concern.
And everything goes black—
A long time ago, I asked her what ‘love’ meant. I asked her what it meant to love people. She smiled, and grasped my hand, pulling me closer. She put my head to her bosom, and began to stroke the top of my head, running her long, slender fingers through my hair. She told me that to love someone was to want to help them in any way I could. So I told her that I loved her. She laughed, and held me tighter, and told me that she loved me as well. That made me happy. That made me want to be loved. To be loved by many different people. That’s why I wanted to love them. I wanted to be someone who loved people, and was loved by them as well.
But it was impossible for me.
You snap back to your surroundings, dazed. It feels like you’ve been dreaming. You don’t know what you were dreaming about, but you’re sure it was a good dream, a happy dream. But a dream must end eventually, and when it does, it’s forever gone, never to return. No matter how much you try to grasp at it, you can’t reach it, your fingertips groping only the air. That’s how dreams are, no matter how beautiful, no matter how wonderful. A dream is nothing. No matter how much it feels real, no matter how much you enjoy it, once it’s all over, it’s returned to being nothing.
This was all just a dream.
You look down at the collapsed form of the woman before you, a large bloody gash across her body, the deep red vital fluids pouring from her open wound quickly festering into a dark, black liquid. She is still, she is motionless, limp on the ground like a doll without its strings. Grasped tightly in your hand is your weapon, blood still dripping from the tip of the blade, the drops hitting and breaking against the tatami mat floor. It had been with you the entire time. You just hadn’t realized it. But now you have, and it is once again in your hand.
“This was a dream…” you whisper to yourself, “…everything was.”
“Hey, what’s with the screaming in here--!?”
You turn around, and see the immortal standing at the doorway out of the classroom, frozen in place. But she quickly understands, her eyes darting from the collapsed woman to you, and the bloody spear you hold in your hand. Her expression quickly turns from shock to anger, immense anger. Her teeth clenched together, her eyes opened wide and bloodshot, she rushes at you, letting out an incomprehensible scream as she draws back a fist.
You sidestep her punch, letting her swing wildly past you. You pull your arm in and swing it out, catching her hard across the abdomen. She goes flying across the room, crashing into the desks, buried underneath them, while you stand and watch her, without moving, without speaking. You feel nothing. You feel numb. You don’t know whether you’re happy, or sad, or shocked, or surprised, or scared. Nothing matters anymore. Nothing matters… no matter what happens, it doesn’t matter anymore, nothing nothing nothing. It’s all worthless. Everything…
“You!” the immortal screams in rage, hurtling away the desks piled on top of her, standing up.
With a yell, fire appears at her fists, engulfing them. Her skin begins to darken, burning and cracking from the heat of the flames, but she doesn’t care. She runs up, dashing at a speed at the absolute limit of a human body, and swings her burning fists toward you. She misses with the first punch, the flames leaving a fiery trail in the air, searing your skin even as her fist grazes you, but she immediately swings her other fist. It connects with your cheek, jerking your head around. The flesh melts off, leaving your cheekbone visible for just a second, but it quickly grows back.
You bring the blade at your knees up around and past them, slashing upward with the sharp edge. The bloody, rusty blade slices through both of the woman’s arms at the elbows, severing through flesh and bones. Her forearms fall to the ground, and immediately burn up in the fire of the hands, turning to nothing more than ash.
The immortal roars in rage, berserker tears streaming down her face. With that roar, fire streams out from the rest of her body, her shirt catching on fire. Despite the pain she’s causing to herself, she rushes forward, attempting to tackle you with her body. You stab out with your spear, and she pierces herself onto it, but she doesn’t care. She moves forward, turning her body to jerk the spear’s handle out from your hand before rushing forward at you. She knocks you down with her burning body, your flesh boiling and melting just from being in close contact with her.
With a shove that nearly burns off your entire hand, you push her off you, and as she rolls onto her back, you get to your feet, and grab the handle of your spear again, ripping it out through the side of her torso, spilling her guts onto the floor. She’s paralyzed by the pain, and you lift the tip up and hang it over her, bringing it down and piercing her heart. She stops moving, stops gasping for air, stops struggling, remaining as limp as the other woman on the floor, her body completely burnt up by the heat of her own flames.
You pull the blade out from her, turning to leave the room.
“You’re not getting away!”
You turn back around, and see the immortal on her feet, her flesh and arms completely restored. Her shirt has been burned away, but she doesn’t care. She rushes forward with renewed vitality, her fists covered in flames again. She flails her arm wildly at you, the fire in her hands dancing wildly along with her punches, embers flying off in every direction. You catch her by the wrist, even as the flames destroy both yours’ flesh, and throw her at the wall. She hits it with a pained scream, landing on her knees, but she quickly gets up, fiery wings erupting from her back, licking the wooden wall behind her. They catch on fire. The desks strewn around her catch on fire. The fire quickly spreads, from wall to wall, desk to desk. The ceiling supports creak and groan. The air wavers and dances in the heat of the fire, and becomes filled with thick smoke.
“You shithead,” the immortal shouts hatefully, her soot-covered face illuminated by the roaring red flames around her body. “I’ll kill you… I’ll kill you!”
She throws both palms forward, and the wings at her back fly forward, forming the shape of a fiery bird soaring toward you. You raise your arm, the flame hitting against it, your mind filled with the searing hot pain as the embers crash against your body, burning and incinerating it. But it’s healed. The flesh that has been melted away returns to normal within seconds.
You lean forward, and run. You run much faster than she can react. Before she can even let out a yelp, you catch her by the throat, leaving her hanging in the air for a split second before throwing her hard up against the other wall. She hits one of the support pillars, and it splinters and cracks under the force, while she falls down onto a pile of burning tables. She gets up on top of the pile, heedless of the flames licking at her feet, burning it to a crisp, tossing her head back and yelling, her body exploding into fire again, her flesh renewed, her burning wings spreading once more.
She leaps, and takes flight, soaring with those fiery wings of hers, swooping down with burning palms. She knocks you down on your back, climbing on top of you. She punches you in the face, and again, and again and again and again with those fiery hands and melts away every bit of flesh on your face but you reach up and stab her in the gut with your hands, pulling it apart and shoving her to the ground and stabbing her with your blade again and again—
A small little girl stands at the doorway to the burning room, peering inside, her small eyes wide open, her mouth agape in shock. She doesn’t see you, or what you’re doing, or even the state of the room at all. She sees only her mother, lying down amidst the burning desks in a pool of her own blood. She runs in, her eyes filled with tears, completely heedless of you and the immortal and the fires raging inside. She drops to her knees at her mother’s side, and reaches out with her small hands, shaking her shoulders.
“Mama!” she cries.
The immortal coughs and hacks, before violently shoving you off her and rolling away, getting to her feet. “Aww, crap, the kid!”
A loud creak.
The ceiling support you broke earlier begins to fall, the base weakened by the flames. The beam groans, beginning to fall toward the little girl—
“Hey, watch out!” the immortal yells, beginning to rush forward.
[ ] Save her.
[ ] Escape.