｡✎ ᵗᵒᵖ𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ➸❒ A little compilation of some one-shots with various characters. 「𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗗」
‼️ 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙘𝙩. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙...
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【 ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴀʟ!ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 】 ❝ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺―𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 ❞ ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
Death. One word that held so much weight for whoever uttered it. Of course, it meant something different depending on the person ― sometimes it was used casually, other times it was used with so much care like caressing a Victorian glass doll. Death is merely one of those things that nobody handles the same because of what it stands for.
A permanent end.
There was no coming back.
Lights out.
That's it.
It's an interesting concept, indeed; a mysterious, terrifying secret only those who passed on know the answers to but can never give an account. For an ordinary mortal, death can be a taboo subject due to the existential dread brought upon by the mere thought. But for certain people... Well, death is a bitch.
Kenny can speak on that better than anyone thanks to God and His laughable gift to the poor boy. For him, death is almost a joke. Every single time, no matter the cause, death never sticks; he wakes up like it was all a bad dream and goes along with his daily life without anyone having the slightest clue as to what happened. There is no permanent end ― there is always coming back.
It's a curse more than anything else, no matter what those tried to say when Kenny, with all his efforts, tried to convince his friends of his blasted powers; but no, even if they were to entertain the idea, they say stupid shit like "But wouldn't that be cool? You can do whatever you want and have no consequences!" Which is a whole lot easier said when they aren't the ones stuck with a never-ending death cycle.
That was all but one person.
A young girl who transferred schools early in the year for reasons unknown to the rest.
Her name is (name)...and she believed Kenny. With all her heart, she believed his devastation is routed in the ugly truth. Not out of admiration...but utter pity, and honestly, sometimes envy.
Every day. Every single passing day did (name) yearn for the embrace of death. So many different methods clouded her mind about just how she would obtain her ultimate goal in this sad, pathetic life, even going through a pros and cons list to decide which was more superior: should she leave a note or not bother with a sob story? Should she let everyone find her body or let them know ahead of time? Should it be silent, or should she let her screams be heard? Should it be slow or quick? Should it be neat or messy?
Days on end were spent considering every detail to a capital "D" despite still not having a concrete plan. After all, she was a coward in the end; for all the pain and suffering that sent her over the edge, waiting for death to come knocking on her doorstep...she never dares to go through with any of it.
