Fireproof

"Clown!", Branzy screamed in terror as the others body disappeared in a sea of flames. He couldn't see anything beside it's orange and yellow flicker – absorbing and destroying everything alive within it's range.
Dark smoke was obscuring the sun at this point and the air lacked much needed oxygen. He was way to close to the raging fire and had to cover half of his face with his arm, coughing.

Twelve seconds. It just had been twelve fucking seconds for the others to exploit every weakness they had in this fight. Because they came prepared.
Branzy wasn't a fighter. Everyone knew this. But that didn't mean he would cower in a corner – hiding – like a coward.

Nonetheless, all he could call himself was a liability. How Clown had stuck to him for this long was a mystery.

Someone laughed but it sounded disoriented and out of place. He spun around wildly, trying to see anything but there was nothing more than silhouettes – at first.

" Such a shame. There is no one left to protect you now."

Feeling dizzy and nauseated Branzy didn't reply. There wasn't anything he got to say.

"When he gets back here it's already over. No more running."

Suddenly a cold blade was held against his throat, digging into the soft flesh. Branzy didn't even register them coming closer. His back was turned to the flames. All of this felt way to personal for a simple reaction to Clown and him scamming them for hearts.
It was like they wanted to see him dead.

Like, really dead.

He swallowed carefully, feeling the sword cutting into the skin.
If he moved even a bit they would slit his throat, so he was kind of in an impossible stance right now.

"You're merely postponing the inevitable, Branzy . You aren't meant to be part of this world. It's nothing personal. "

Nothing personal, my ass , he thought with gritted teeth.

God, they got some nerve to monologue right now.

"It's easy to go for the weakest target, right? Does it make you feel special or powerful or something?" he replied, finally finding his voice again.
The blade slid under his chin, tilting his head back slightly.

"Don't get sassy. You are in a fairly bad position after all."

This was a display of power. Clown wasn't here to beat them up so they hadn't anything to fear right now.

And to tell him to not get cocky, hah.

" Please, Branzy. Look at this like getting freed of your debt." That was Reks voice off in the distance, bleeding with somewhat close to guilt.
He was part of the assassination. Branzy couldn't decide whether to feel hurt or not even surprised.

There was no fucking debt. He was part of Clowns team on his own accord.

Nothing to regret here.

"Just kill him already. He only has one heart left."

This was it. The end. Kind of unspectacular.

He didn't expect to go out with a great battle but being ambushed and killed off by more than four people ... yes, indeed very brave on their part.

Impatience grew overbearing and he closed his eyes, shutting the world around him off with no snarky last retort.

Next he knew there was no pain but screaming. The blade at his throat fell away as his nearest attacker backed off of him. He was pushed to the ground and only barely caught himself with his hands in the dirt.
The commotion didn't stop there. All of them were shouting over each other, pointing to the flames where is gaze went next and as his eyes widen there was a new figure stepping out of the fire without being actually touched by it.

The masked man showed no sign of pain whatsoever whilst holding his scythe in hand.
Clown walked out of the fire like it was nothing .

Unimpressed. Indestructible. Immortal.

"I want you to think very carefully about what you're about to do, and then reconsider."