Fracture
Ralfe Rich
death ECTOComp 2020 La Petite Mort parser
Your time is ticking. Your body is weak, but your mind is still activeuntil the very end.
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Would you like some special instructions?(recommended)
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This game contains death, blood, and violence.
Ding...ding...ding.
Ding...ding...ding.The ringing of the bell brings you back to the living. Something hot spreads across your chest as a sharp pain clings to your abdomen. Though your eyelids feel like plates of lead, you still try and open your eyes. As you do, the light strikes them, a hot sensation snakes along your reddened veins. Even with such excruciating pain, you force your eyes open.
Fracture

From the light, it's only a little before noon. At this time, you would hear joyous songs and thoughtful prayers as people of faith would've come to this very place. But now, only the gust of the wind remains.

The once full pews are nothing more than rotting pieces of furniture, as the ceiling, once donning intricate hand-painted frescos, have now peeled and crumbled. The barren wasteland, which was a place of faith, has been relegated to the rats and mites.

You cough, blood spilling out of your mouth. Your time is ticking. Your body is weak, but your mind is still active--until the very end.

In front of you, resting on the steps, is a leather-bound book, a torn piece of parchment, and a green ring.
Examine book
A book that you've seen since your days as a child. The memories of your school, your friends, and your family flood back to you. Your eyes, still burning from the light, become wet.
You look at torn
It wasn't torn before. It was whole when it arrived at your doorstep.
You read torn
You can't, every movement--it hurts. You can't
You examine the ring
A green ring lay on the steps. Flashes of the ritual goes through your mind.
About yourself
You lay, pinned to the altar. Blood covers your whole body.
You examine the blood
Hot red blood leaks from your wound.
You look at the steps
Small and broken.
You look at the ceiling
It's no longer a place for protection. The hole it has invites nature to its fullest.
You examine wound
A wooden spear is stabbed into your abdomen--each movement--it's too much.
You look at the spear
A long wooden spear that's been stabbed into you.
You look at the hole
that area's a bit blurry. You can't make anything out.
You look at the frescos
They looked beautiful once upon a time. Now their fairytale has ended.
You think
You can't, every movement--it hurts. You can't
You look at the floor
The symbol was as perfect as the one described on the scroll, and Jaime chanted a prayer, cause the floor to burst into flames.

The air in your chest finally leaves your body. The blood comes out of your mouth and nose as your lungs begin to close up. You try and move, but your limbs lay dead by your side. Blood paints the floor crimson as the bright light grows cold.