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The Thin Line Between Life and Death

<<SUMIRE SUMIDA HAS BEEN FOUND GUILTY>>

<<COMMENCING EXECUTION…>>

  Sumire was dragged at blinding speeds from the trial room, rightfully declared guilty for the crime she had committed. She was being dragged her throat no less, so her pain was an unbearable one, but she’d been through worse… she was surrounded by pitch black, and it soon enough consumed her senses to the point that her mind couldn’t control her senses anymore. She blacked out soon enough.

  When Sumire came to, she was being held up by her hair. She didn’t exactly react at first, but that’s because she was more aware of the fact that her feet were not on or anywhere near solid ground. She let her eyes open and found that she was several yards off of the ground, being carried by someone who was climbing a ladder. She slowly reached up and grabbed their hand to ease her pain a little, trying to look up and see who it was. The hand was cold. And whoever it was, was in a black and white body suit. She couldn’t see their face, but she could see that her hair was now in a ponytail, and she was wearing a silky red leotard, encrusted with beautiful red crystals. Her sleeves were sheer, and clung to her skin as her senses heightened and allowed her to become uncomfortably aware of her surroundings. Before she knew it, the performer was dragging her over the edge of a platform, releasing her and backing away into the shadows. She picked herself up and winced, patting her head and looking around. The room was almost entirely dark, except for two overhead lights illuminating a long, thin rope. The platform she stood on resembled one she would normally start her performances on, allowing her to deduce that this was a circus rope. Music played faintly, and a light shove from a figure that she couldn’t see allowed her to believe that she was to walk across this thing. Easy enough. She took a step out and instantly began sliding. And with that, she groaned and slipped to her hands. She dangled from the rope’s mid-point, and looked down to her feet. They had been left bare, and were bleeding from the abrasiveness of the rope. Her hands burned, and she looked up to see that they, too, had begun to bleed. The rope was very old, splintering and creaking. She winced, but began to pull herself together, as well as closer to the rope. She might as well try to stand on it. Just holding on would kill her arms, and she couldn’t exactly see a net below. As she began to regain her balance, she took a deep breath. Only to have it shook out of her by a sudden jostling of the rope. She quickly regained her balance, but didn’t dare move. She looked from side to side, seeing two shadowy figures emerge on either end. Both wore black and white suits and masks, moving like willows closer and closer down the rope. Sumire could hear the straining of the rope beneath her, and only bit her lip as it dug deeper and deeper into her wounds. Were these two… human, she wondered briefly? In this place, it wouldn’t surprise her…

  With time they only encroached closer and closer, so dangerously close. Sumire crouched down and held on to the rope as tightly as she could in hopes that this was just some mind trick of the young host’s doing. However… all movement stopped. She slowly looked up to see that both figures had stopped on either side of her. They only stared down at her with empty gazes for a silent moment. A gruelling, intensely silent moment. Before Sumire could say a word, they both leapt up in the air. Sumire’s eyes widened and she watched helplessly as they both landed at the exact same time on the rope, snapping the thin string in two. Sumire felt the only grounding she had disappear entirely from under her. Her breathing hitched in her throat as she watched the ceiling slowly grow increasingly distant. It was strange, but… Sumire felt calm. She even closed her eyes, waiting for her body to make impact with the ground and steal her life away for having done the same. She could see the smiling face of Kin’ya, almost as if it were imprinted on her eyelids. She could see Haruhisa… his life as she raised him, their precious son… she could feel tears welling in her eyes, but this was halted by the sickening sound of slicing flesh. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked over her shoulder to see the two beings who had sealed her fate on the rope. Or rather, what remained of them. Straining her eyes, she could see the faint glimmer of a wire net only a few yards below, thin and taut enough to have sliced her assailants to ribbons. Sumire only watched the net grow closer, almost as if everything were in slow motion, before she closed her eyes for one last glimpse of her beautiful, happy family. The one she was leaving behind in order to keep them safe…

  This would be the last thing Sumire would ever see, before her body would be sliced into unidentifiable chunks of what was once, Sumire Akamine.

Sumire Sumida, the Super High School Level Funambulist, has been executed.

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ANNOUNCEMENT

Everyone remained in the estate lobby for a few minutes, some paying their respects to Ayame, some weeping and sobbing out of fear, some inspecting the attic door. Ayame was alive just a little while ago… was life so easy to lose in this place…?

Keep reading

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ANNOUNCEMENT

It’s been pretty quiet for the past few days, since the rather ghastly young host informed you all of an equally ghastly motivator he could hold over your heads. And, well, has. Given the paintings of you friends and family hung around the manor. Boy, does Monoko love being literal.

Everyone is simply… biding their time, pacing anxiously and hiding in their rooms for the most part in attempts to avoid death themselves. Some of us however… aren’t.

All you hear in the chilling silence is a blood curtling scream, followed by a few loud thumps and bumps, before the silence returns. You hurry from your location towards the source of the sound… only to find a crowd slowly forming in the center of the lobby. Monoko stands at the top of the staircase, staring down at the scene, chest heaving with breath and eyes cold. Some students express horror, some disgust, and some anger, and the closer you grow, you finally see why.

Ayame Suzuki lays unceremoniously in a growing pool of her own blood, her neck and limbs contorted in harsh angles.

You try to find where your reaction lies amongst others, when the slow clomping of Monoko’s feet one by one down the staircase catches your attention. Before the first person can ask why, he points sharply at the door at the top of the stairs. You know this door to be locked, apparently leading to the attic. It’s covered in claw marks and dents, with a very distinct crack breaking through it’s center.

“Little bitch was trying to bust down that door, thinking her stupid bag and her family would be behind it. They aren’t. So as a warning, I will let you all know now: destruction of the estate is strictly prohibited. Anyone caught doing anything to intentionally harm this estate will be punished severely, no questions asked. I hope you all… take heed to this warning. Dismissed.”

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Phi had taken her time making her way to her supposed bedroom-- despite being trapped here, that didn’t mean couldn’t appreciate the lovely aesthetic of the place! It was obvious when she was approaching since the sound of her shoes’ “click click” echoed throughout the hallway. 

Eventually, she made it to her room, and with a polite knock, she entered the room and was surprised to see that her roommate was already here. Almost as though it was rehearsed gesture, Phi gave an extremely polite curtsy and a simple introduction. “Hello. Je m'appelle Phi.”

Phi noticed the tea near Sumire and took it upon herself to approach her. “May I?” She said in an even tone, ignoring Sumire’s blank and uninterested expression 

The Hellverse (Closed Roommate RP, Phi Bettencourt)

Sumire was quietly and calmly sitting on the couch in her room, a tray of fresh tea on the table next to her and a cup in her hands. Her demeanor was no different than it normally was; calm, cold, utterly emotionless. But the sound filling the room distinctly displayed otherwise; the loud rattling of cup against saucer, produced by the inane shaking of Sumire’s hands. There was a fire in her eyes as she drank in silence.

“…”

They had them. Her family. Mother, father, Kin’ya, Haruhisa, the list was endless, and they had them all. A faint snarl etched it’s way into her lips with every lingering thought of this dreadful occurrence. She slammed the cup against the saucer after a long pause, staring across the room as her head swam. She took a deep breath, composing herself and ridding her expression of the snarl before taking another sip of the scorching hot liquid in her cup.

“…”

How did they get them though? Kin’ya would have easily put up a fight, not to mention Bruno. There was no way they just wandered into captivity… none of it makes any sense… Haruhisa… he must be scared out of his mind. Sumire’s heart was breaking just thinking that. Her lips trembled, and she let out a shaky sigh, her eyes closing slowly as she desperately attempted to rid herself of these toxic thoughts. It was about then that she heard the creak of the bedroom door, snapping back to her emotionless visage and taking another long sip of her tea.

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Phi gave a very amused, little smile as she being called a ‘little girl.’ It wasn’t that it made her upset-- in fact, she knew very well how young she looked; she just had a habit of smiling at whoever it speaking to her, no matter what the conversation was about. 

“Ah, do not fret, I am not worried.” Phi said calmly as she smoothed down her dress. With her own slight tilt of the head, she continued and said, “And that is true. Death is one of the few truths of this world. No matter who you are, you end up the same as everyone else. Is that not a good reason as to why everyone here should not worry, dear? Even if one does not die in this place, they will die another day. Cest kif-kif et bourricot.” Phi ended with a small French idiom, given her Japanese being a bit rusty.

“And I have seen my. .  “fair” share corpses.” She said with a small curtsy. “ La mort, le décès, it is all the same.”

When Tomio pointed at the portraits on the wall, Phi gave a dismissive wave. “My mother is dead. She passed away years ago.” She almost seemed amused by her mother’s death, given the slight glint in her eyes.  

A Rose By Any Other Name || Closed Starter for shslgeocacher

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“Witch 3” from Tairin Rur

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DeathBecomesHer

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Victorian goth http://victorian-goth.tumblr.com/

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Rose Shaped Baked Apple Dessert…RECIPE

I just found out that the creator of this amazing recipe has a Tumblr. To see more of her recipes on your dash, go follow her at: ‘cookingwithmanuela.’ Btw, this has so far been the most popular post on beautifulpictureofhealthyfood EVER. It was posted just 17hours ago and it already has 90,000 notes, wow!! :)

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Another of my fairytale sets for MNF/slim MSD - Sleeping Beauty

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Junji Ito

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