MEMORY REGISTRY/GAME TRACKING

[miraculess]

Games so far:

Memories Lost: One; the loss in the Dismemberment game was cancelled by winning Truth or Lie.

Meeting her grandmother.

Seven memories for the memory share game:
Saving Miku
being named
waking up for the first time
the river
drowning
seeing her own face for the first time
dying

Comments

the end

[miraculess]

They're going to kill you. They're really going to kill you. And you're equal parts terrified (that it won't work, that you'll live through whatever they have planned for you again, that you'll spend months in agony as your body heals) and angry that they've come so late, and at the same time it's all you can do to bite back manic laughter as you run, pelting down the streets and alleys you'd stupidly tried to claim for yourself.

The first bullet tears through your leg, a flash of impact to agony to dull numbness that leaves you tripping over yourself; the second hits the middle of your back and rips out just underneath your breasts and takes your breath with it, knocking you down onto your hands and knees with pain and the force of the blow as you struggle for air you can no longer pull in.

There are footsteps behind you, laughter, cursing— you somehow get yourself turned enough to try to fight back like the rabid, wounded thing you are, snarling and throwing yourself at the lot of them as red hazes your vision and if you can just get to them you'll kill them, you'll make them hurt like this, you never asked for this, but the next gunshot is loud enough to hear even over the crazed shrieking in your head and ripping raw out of your throat. You can feel impact against, through your stomach and—

There's a split-second of visceral knowledge that something in you is broken, something is horribly wrong before your joints stop responding. Your body collapses like a puppet with cut strings and oh God, it hurts, it hurts so much it hurts you're sorry, you're so sorry, you know you asked for death over and over and over and you deserve so much worse but you can't do this, please. please. please please plese why won't they just end it (you can hear them talking but the words don't make sense anymore, it's all garbage, error error error. but you still know what they're saying, you've been hearing that tone of disgust and fear all your life)—

One of them grabs you by the hair and pulls and it's stupid, how badly that still hurts even compared to everything else. But you can feel the press of something red-hot to the side of your head, and you can't even fight it anymore. You're going to die here, crying like a child, gunned down like a dog, and you won't even fight, because you just want to be done.

You just wanted—