So I wrote this, and it's not the whole thing/chapter
Just the death scene Drabble. Without further ado,
Death:
My fingers grasped at the soft cloth wrapped about my neck, pulling for any slack it could offer. Despite my lack of oxygen, it seemed I had enough air left in my lungs to scream. Or, rather, try. I couldn't manage anything more that that of a strangled gurgle, and my digits' tugging hastened as I felt a foggy dizziness begin to settle. The steps scraped against my back as he dragged me up towards what I was sure to be my death, and I writhed and kicked every which way I could in an attempt to slow our ascend. It did nothing, I found, for the bumpy terrain soon made way to the smooth expanse of carpet.
My door was kicked open with more force than necessary, the knob slamming into the wall and sticking into the cheap material. He wasted no time in hauling me past the doorframe and into my room, sliding me to a halt. Finally, the cape around my neck loosened, and I laid there gasping for my previously lost breath. My throat creaked and popped at the newfound passage of air, and the burning in my lungs seem to die down, if only a little. I heard the floor creak to my left as he approached, and I could almost taste the grape of his soda slushed blood on my tongue. I had thwacked him pretty good with my cane before he had wrestled my dragon cape around my neck. And, he was now sporting a nose bleed as show of my handiwork.
With a hoarse cry I swiped out at him blindly, refusing to let him take me down so easily again. He readily swatted my arms away, however, rolling me over onto my stomach.
A knee dropped onto my back and a strong grip captured ahold of my wrists, ceasing my thrashing. His other palm shot out to seize hold one of my many scalemates, snatching up LemonSnout from among the mass. The dragon was waiting for it's sentence to be conducted, the noose already hanging from it's plush nape. However, it seemed it would live today. The legislature would be carrying out the time in its place.
Ripping the rope from around the toy, the clown made quick work of my arms. He tied them together closely and tightly, making it impossible for me to find any source of lax. I was terrified at this point, my heart thrumming a million miles a second. I could feel the pinprick of teal tears, and I could only pray to whatever gog or jegus of Dave's that someone came home early.
The material began to tighten around my throat once more as he tied a decent slip knot and tested it with a jerk. My head snapped back along with the action, a broken whimper leaving me.
Satisfied, he clambered back to his feet, a sickening crunch following his steps as he stomped down onto my glasses. I had no time to morn over my loss, however, for he began to once again drag me with a sharp tug. I struggled against my binds, wriggling about in a last, futile attempt to escape. I knew it wouldn't be long until there was no point in my struggle, and, if I was honest, I was likely past it. With a deafening creak, my closet door was pulled open, and I knew I was at the threshold of no return.
He hoisted me up by the collar of my shirt with a hand, leveling my eyes to his own. I couldn't see it, but I knew the smug smirk was there. He was drinking in my fright like one of his shitty sodas; if I was going to die, I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
Putting on my best bravado, I sneered at the clown before me. "1F YOU'R3 PL4NN1NG ON H4NG1NG M3 1N TH3 CLOS3T, 1 WOULDN'T. TH3Y'R3 GO1NG TO F1ND M3 34S1LY."
"that's the point motherfucker." He tossed the end of the cape over the clothes bar with a whisper. My facade dropped momentarily at his words, and confusion began to mingle with my interchanging emotions. "WH4T?"
"I SAID THAT'S THE MOTHERFUCKING POINT." His voice rose to a roar, and he threw me back. I stumbled, my back colliding with the wall. With a sickening laugh, he yanked the end of the cloak towards him, and the ground seemed to disappear from under me. The material around my neck tightened considerably, leaving not the slightest room for breath or sound to escape. The tips of my horn scraped against the topmost shelf, and my feet dangled just centimeters above the floor. I didn't feel the longing for air all at once, but rather gradually. And, if anything, the only pain suddenly notable was the ache in my abused neck.
He tied the cape relatively close to himself, his gaze never leaving me as I swung back and forth. I could feel it burning into me, unmoving and unblinking. There was a tremendous pressure and rushing sensation gathering in my head, and I could already feel a swimming darkness washing over my consciousness. I knew from past experiences that I could pass out in only a few seconds, and so I knew my clock was ticking. I strained at my bonds as hard as I could, twisting my wrists anyway available to try and slip them loose. It proved useless, for the longer I took, the heavier my limbs became. My features flipped between several different expressions, showing anything from a grimace to a teary smile, and my sightless eyes stared out to where I'm sure he was sitting. And, I couldn't help but want to laugh. What a perfectly ironic way for me to die; Dave would be proud.
The murky waters of unconsciousness began to wash over my mind completely, dripping down throughout my body and stilling more than just my lungs. His voice, soft and far, just barely brushed my ears one last time. "you get to experience death by my own motherfucking hands. what a beautiful sight for the mirthful messiahs."
And then,
Nothing.
