He was nothing now— was that what the man was laughing over? Humiliation followed by a terrifying death, the mere prospect of what the Punk was playing— was devastating.
“Stop your shit.” Lichness’ voice broke the laughter— he pointed from his glass at Paris, his skeletal hands— like Famine arched but directed, “You force a kid to kill someone— barely even and now laugh as you plot your murder. You are the true villain!”
“Yes I am!” Paris clapped his hands, “I am Loki! The God of Mischief! Of course I’m not— only in resemblance— I am Paris, the Saint of Evil.”
The others stood still— some grimaced whilst others looked away, there was one mutual thought which seeped through all of their auras.
‘This man is a piece of shit.’
“What is your issue.” Jeremiah spun a chocolate flavoured lollipop through his hands— passing it side to side, “You really are just despicable— were you even honest the whole time?”
“No— of course I wouldn’t, as the Guildford’s Prize— I must be an excellent actor.” Paris spun an accent on the last word— giggling, “Now are you ready to see an execution— live and gory.”
“Bastard.” Zero punched the air— their claws scraping through, “You lied about it all— your hatred, you being forced— you chose this! Just for what?”
“I’ll let you in on a little more— and also our audience up there and at home.” Paris pointed to the ceiling, “There has been many cracks within our kingdom of Floria— or is it even a kingdom? Isn’t it just a society— run by a God who is spiralling into madness, which only mortals should be— where you Saints and Angels murdered in cold blood— not by external forces but their own? Isn’t that proof that the world is ending soon— the world, will end— and so I just enjoy the last moments— the last fibres.”
He finished speaking— before jokingly putting a finger to his lip, “Whoopsie— said too much.”
“Get on with it.” Richard muttered— he didn’t avert his gaze from the floor. “I’m sick of living anyway.”
“So you want to die?” Paris placed his finger away from his lip— to his chin, a curious grin emerged on his face— his gothic makeup began to wither, leaving pale skin to stay— “Why? Did I bore you.”
“Yeah— you are annoying as shit, at least if I’m dead and rotting in hell— I ain’t hear any more.” “Hell will be your destination indeed— no heaven for monsters like you, those who decide to sin— go against law of man or God— their own destination is hell— all of those present here— that is your destination, so remember it. Enjoy your life— because as soon as your consciousness fades— you will be burning, and we will all burn together.” Paris chuckled— he swung the glass containing Richard’s power— his blood, in his hands before waving it, “Who wants it? Don’t bother— I already set on a next host, anyway— it’s time to die!”
The Evil raised his hand.
Nothing happened. Everyone stood still— Paris was no longer on his throne— his marble throne was vacant.
Richard looked at everyone— panting, sighing as his gaze averted to one person— who stood motionless.
Lichness.
“Hey buddy!” Gloxer yelled from across— his eye also caught on the lich, “Guys— look at Lichness! He’s fucking weird right now.”
The Lich stood still— quiet but alive. As if he was a puppet his arms jolted up— strings attached as he began to incant.
“Those who decide to rule against Gods— will see their heart die.” The Lich’s voice was ethereal— not human or fantastical just divine.
He finished— his hands dropped down as he fell to the ground— unconscious, the puppeteer had no more use of his body.
“What the fuck?” Saraline jumped away from her glass as she saw a black mist emerge from the centre— where Roxanne was.
“Hohohohoho!” A voice from the throne bellowed— it was Paris, “That’s my power— the most evil thing in the world is restricting one’s autonomy, controlling their body— that’s what I do.” The punk laughed— he was dressed in a royal attire, a crown ontop of his head alongside a staff.
He waved the staff at the centre— revealing.
Roxanne Martinez— alive in the iron cage but extremely pale and naked, her body malnourished as flies swarmed her, limbs rotting and teeth already decayed— elevated above the others as she stared down— frantic. Shivers rained down her body as she jittered in the cell— walking around in it— in a circle.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Richard stared above— was he dead and in hell, watching whatever could happen?
No— it’s worse.
“Someone mentioned a point of resurrecting Roxanne— I agree, you know— I said I’d execute… the killer. Richard— you never even saw her die, why would I grant your wish? Why would I kill you.” Paris chuckled, “So I’ll kill the real killer— with what made you, recognisable.” He gripped the staff hard— it decaying instantly.
“No— no no no!” Richard pleaded, “Stay the ffuck— I mean just please, listen— I got wealthy family! Not even that— I’ll even suck your— dude just please! THAT’S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!”
“You’ve seen her die once right? Actually you didn’t— guess I’ll do it for you.” Paris hovered in the air— floating towards Roxanne’s cage which was near the ceiling, he grabbed the bars— it decaying instantly.
“Hey! Listen— fuck! Man! Decay is instant right! She won’t feel no pain! I got that power from birth— I know it better than anyone!” Richard panted— trying to reconcile.
“Good thing I know how to strengthen or weaken abilities— like how I made my puppet over there stronger.” Paris pointed towards the unconscious Lichness before floating inside Roxanne’s cage.
She no longer was walking— her hands were clutched on her head, she might’ve still be dealing with the poison as she screamed— not from Paris, but resurrecting.
“Hello there hun.” Paris mocked— Roxanne looked up and saw.
“A demon— no but I am a Saint instead— you’ll face worse results though.” Paris grabbed Roxanne’s head.
It began to decay.
“STOP THIS SHIT!” Richard screamed.
Roxanne’s hair began to fall apart— locks turning into ash as inch by inch— piece by piece it fell, as it touched the floor— it instantly decayed.
The girl collapsed to the floor— her scalp deteriorating as she screamed louder.
Paris orchestrated towards the sound— music, as he gripped her head ebveas he gripped her head even harder, laughing. But then he stopped.
“If I decay your head— you won’t feel anything.” Paris realised as he let go— her scalp, bleeding and partially eviscerated. “I’ll do this execution justice— trust me.”
The punk snapped his fingers— out of nowhere large speakers blasted disco music— quieting her screams. He grabbed her leg— each molecule beginning to destroy.
Cells dying— repeatedly, multiplied— extremes, destroyed— died— destroyed— died—
Her foot was gone.
No longer agony— she fainted.
Paris stopped.
“I said I’ll do this justice!” The boy yelled— kicking her in the head as she slumped awake.
Her eyes darted back— Paris dominating over her, smiling.
“Now watch— and don’t sleep, it’s disrespectful!” Paris giggled as he continued his destruction. Richard’s pleas drowned by the music as her left leg was almost completely destroyed— leaving a stump near her thigh.
Ashes replaced the remains— the boy scooped it up and placed it into a cigarette, “I thank Lichness’ body for this— love my power.” He smoked her ashes before beginning on her right leg.
“STOP! I’ll become a slave for you— master! LOOK MASTER I CAN HELP WITH ANY OF YOUR NEEDS! I’M NOT A TOUGH STRONG MAN! I’M A LOSER!” Richard crawled on the floor— attempting to appeal to Paris.
Paris scoffed;
This time he only laid his index finger on Roxanne’s right leg— it began to decay, rapidly— her epidermis depleted— blood leaking as Roxanne bit her arm— attempting to hold in the pain.
“That’s more like it!” Paris cheered playfully as he began to destroy her dermis. He paused. “Wait— I remember from doing biology when I was a wee boy! If I destroy your nerves— you won’t feel it? So I believe the best course for this execution— is destroying every layer before going onto it— you are gonna be straight ash!”
He backed away from her right leg— beginning to act on her left arm.
The others stared— the camera was still rolling of course, sequentially zooming into Richard’s face.
Agony— terror, hate.
Paris was eliminating her left arm— the skin unveiling and dropping before decaying as well. He began to laugh, “See— this is your boyfriend’s power, took it from him— no more power. Had to make it a lot weaker so you can feel the exact process of what he did to others— what a jackass, why’d you go and save him huh? Why’d you go fuck up my witch game— not even mine, Medea insisted I host it— I loved the idea, I’d be all sad and draw all attention away from me as the audience hates on the fucking killer! Look at what you’ve done— by trying to be some fucking hero! DIE DIE DIE!”
He raged— no longer holding back, instantly eviscerating her left arm— as she screamed, hollered— cried.
Richard’s screams faded.
But her pleas for a quick ending, didn’t occur.
The opposite did.
Limb by limb he eradicated— her right arm, gone— he returned to the right leg, it vanished— poofed.
All that was left was a limbless girl— head and torso remaining.
“There’s nothing else to do is there?” Paris chuckled, “You’ll die regardless of which I pick— wanna know why you aren’t dead yet though?”
The girl nodded
“I didn’t end the execution— in my world, I’m like a better Gabriel— when I say it’s done! It’s done! So be happy— your boyfriend will live, just as a pathetic bum who will be hated on television— ohhh you think the audience up there cares? No— it’s funny to them, Richard Lopez the loser and Roxanne Martinez the stupid girl! That’s what they’ll remember you as— the reality television, wait that’s what this Reprisal is! AHAHAHAHAAHA!”
His insane manic outbursts— it didn’t faze her no more.
She twisted her body over— looking at Richard who was frozen— he didn’t move, tear stuck in place as his mouth lied agape.
“Did he die? Pathetic— you’ll go as well, it’s boring without his screams.” Paris shrugged before touching Roxanne’s head.
Instantly killing her.
The boy stood with the torso next to him— he booted it off the cage, it hitting the camera and decaying momentary. He began to glide down to his throne— smiling.
“Did you enjoy?”
Silence.
Psylaiso— cried, jewels dripped from her slime as they clattered against the ground.
Lichness lied on the floor— asleep.
Dara squirmed— sitting in the back of her glass, in a huddle.
Zero screwed their face— not even looking at Paris only mumbling.
Gloxer silently breathed as Ilya sobbed.
Famine lit a cigarette— coughing quietly.
Jeremiah’s lollipop was gone, he just stood still— expressionless.
Gabriel itched his head, then his neck, then the crack on his mask.
Mog’s eyes were closed.
Felix spat on the floor, speaking— “Were you loved as a child?”
Nil nodded with Felix’s question— quivering.
“For my performance, I deserve a round of applause!” Paris raised his hands— everyone was clapping, forcefully.
Like strings— like a puppet on strings— doll like makeup appeared on their faces, round cherry cheeks paired with lines stretching across their faces.
Every participant clapped for a minute before stopping— dormant, unconscious.
“Now that’s a good to end a Reprisal isn’t it.” Paris snapped his finger— the whole world disappeared.