Every sensation in the word narrows down to the press of blade against flesh.
But it doesn't hurt.
Blood sprays from the jugular over their already-soaking chest, wells up into their mouth from the inside, leaving what remains of reflexes to make their throat convulse.
There's one final effort they don't even feel. One final shove, hands flat cross the ground, pushing their body just a few inches.
Why is what is who is this is everything slides away.
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* You won.
Date: 2016-04-28 07:42 pm (UTC)But it doesn't hurt.
Blood sprays from the jugular over their already-soaking chest, wells up into their mouth from the inside, leaving what remains of reflexes to make their throat convulse.
There's one final effort they don't even feel. One final shove, hands flat cross the ground, pushing their body just a few inches.
Why is what is who is this is everything slides away.
They're falling again.
Frisk's eyes go empty.
It's...
peaceful.