My Nihilism Got Me Laid?!

The two men begin to tie a thick scratchy rope around each of my arms. They tie the other ends up to the top of the posts as I hang suspended.

So what? I'm getting crucified?

Wasn't that on a cross? Also, what's the point of the executioner, dude?

"Now, let us give thanks to Graves, he shall spread his wings, so we can fly to heaven!"

Wait... wings?

My eyes widen

no...

NO!

That's not even a Christian thin-

Suddenly, a hot knife is driven into my back.

"AAAAHHH"

I can't help but scream out; the heated knife slices my flesh like butter. With a crackling pop, my skin sizzles as the tempered blade glides across my back muscles, snapping each and every fiber!

"STOP IT!" Trashing my head, I attempt to break free. My once smug air has evolved into a writhing, panicked pain. "FUC- FUCK! STOP IT!"

My eyes water, as I can't help but cry. The agony

The sound of my flesh being ripped apart is interrupted as I hear the man giggling, the octave increases into a high pitched laughter. The yellow cloaked man peels back the divided flesh. With a splash, the blood begins to pour down my body as my back is opened. Like a machine, the man inspects my insides as though parts.

There's a pause before he continues his maniacal giggling; using the blade, he begins tapping on my bones, attempting to play a song as though my body was a fucking xylophone! The hollow notes linger in the cold night air, my body is failing to maintain homeostasis as the breeze has amplified in its coldness.

Using a hammer, he chisels away at my ribs, carefully breaking each and every one of them from their main joints; freed from the spine, the muscles hold the ribs in their position. Using the muscle and tissue as a hinge, he pushes them aside as though flipping the pages of a book!

"PLEASE!" I can't stop choking on the tears; mimicking the agony, I scream out. Conveying the pain, I cry. Fueling the hatred, I clench my fist.

The two gruff guys from earlier begin to poke holes through the skin, tying smaller threads through it like a shoelace. Pinning the threads to the poles, the peeled skin of my back fans out, like wings as the gravity of my suspended body pulls on the thin layer of string.

No matter how much pain I am put through, the immortality heals the receptors, forcing me to feel out every rip and tear over and over! My mind begins to degrade as the insanity caused by the pain is pushing me, and pushing me AND PUSHING ME!

WITH WIDE EYES I SCREAM, THROWING MY HEAD TOWARDS THEM. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU! DON'T THINK A MISERABLE GOD CAN SAVE YOUR FUCKING PATHETIC LIVES!"

Looking at Asher she stands there, the pity has receded, instead her eyes widen, as though fearing me?

Fear?

How?

I sacrificed my well being for you!

My eyes dart around to my various torturers, giving each of them a personalized death threat like an invitation card. "THAT FUC- THAT BLADE! IM GOING TO DRIVE IT BETWEEN YOUR EYES AND FEED YOU YOUR ORGANS!" Turning my head to the Reverend, my hatred turns into a rabid pant as I gasp for drooling breaths. "AND YOU! YOU FAT FUCKED PIG! I'M GOING TO GUT YOU LIKE A FISH! YOU HEAR?!"

My words fall on a crowd who gasps; instead of fear, they see the reverends cackling and decide to cheer me on. THE MOTHERFUCKERS ARE CHEERING ME ON!

"GRAVES! EMBRACE SALVATION!" The maniacs applaud.

The Reverend walks up face to face with my suspended body. His face, a smug smirk. "Don't resist, the lord will see this and forgive you for everyone of your sins.

"NO AMOUNT OF BEGGING OR PRAYING WILL PARDON ME FROM WHAT IM GOING TO DO TO YOU!" I futily squirm against the restraints, which only furthers the executioner's annoyance as he aggressively pokes and prods around my insides.

My hatred has been thoroughly silenced. Strung up like an animal's carcass; my watery eyes shift to a crimson red as my tears turn to blood.

Just as this man chips away at my spine, the pain has chipped away at my hope. My body begins to slouch.

FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

My vision is going blurry. My head can only think of the pain.

In that moment, I wanted the easy way out; I wanted the tranquility of death.

My hatred has wilted. "Please, just kill me!"

The pain overwhelms my senses. In an act of surrender, my eyes begin to close to the pain.

The torturer walks down from the ladder, pocketing his tools as he stands beside the Reverend on the stage.

The last thing I see is the reflection of Asher's glowing blue eyes shaking. Tears streaming down her cheeks.

How selfish of me.

To die...

The Reverend clasps his hands together as he cheers with the crowd. "With this, our holy feast comes to a close!"

THWAP!

One of the strings holding my skin to the pole snaps.

THWAP!

THWAP!

THWAP!

THWAP!

The strings that suspend me by the skin of my back suddenly snap as I clench my teeth

*THUD!*

Slamming down to the platform, I bend my knees upon impact.

I can still feel my back outstretched like wings as the broken ribs hold the flesh in place. Despite having my large intestine dragging out and stringed along like a tail, my steps are certain and commanding.

The night breeze flutters through my hair as my raspy breathing struggles to maintain a consistency.

The executioner stands at attention towards the crowd, holding his form. Taking the negligence, I lurk up from behind.

Swiftly pick pocketing one of the knives from his holster.

There's a pause, the crowd gasping at my aliveness.

Leaning in, I whisper to the executioner, my words tremble filled with excitement. "I'm done... No more pleading."

The Executioner whips his head around; but it's too late, as I've driven the knife into his cranium.

The healing factor has reeled in most of the vital organs into place, enough for me to retain consciousness. But my back hasn't completely healed, as I can feel the skin wings still outstretched.

Hunching over, breathing has become difficult; but the pain and hatred act as a stimulant, pushing me forward.

The Reverend looks at the crowd, his expression confused as spectators onlook in shock.

He finally turns to see me. I match his wide eyes with a tired expression as I yank the knife out of the first guys head. His skull sprays like a red faucet, as it splatters my face.

The smirk has vanished from his face as he begins to back away. "Wha- yo- how?"

Kneeling down, I play grave robber and take the executioner's pistol.

"Asher, think fast." I toss her the pistol.

My voice shakes her from her trembling haze. With wide eyes she fumbles for the weapon, barley managing to catch it.

"How are you alive?" The reverend's eyes shake as I approach.

Hunched over, I begin to giggling, which evolves into a full on cackle of insanity.

My eyes widen as I grin; each step towards him an absolute stomp, "It seems your god has abandoned you. So why don't you go ask him what you did wrong? Why this is the result of your actions? WHY THIS FEELS SO RIGHT!"

"Get back!" He pleas.

He pulls out a pocket knife, shakily holding it before himself.

My body sways as I close the distance between us.

Standing inches away, I smirk, glancing down at his punny knife. "Go ahead. Stab me... better make it count, though. "

Despite my words of encouragement, the chubby man stands before me... frozen.

"I made you a promise." Grabbing his wrist, I pull the knife closer to me, practically stepping into his blade as it pierces my skin while I grin.

Leaning forward, I whisper in his ear. "Tell god that I want a vacation."

Driving the rusted blade across his stomach, his belly pops open like an anatomy themed pinata; organs flood out in a bloody splash as his insides splatter onto the stage.

His bloodshot eyes widen as lunges forward.

His gibberish words have de-escalated into a whimper as tears stream down his face. Like a beggar, he attempts to pick up his intestine and return them back into his stomach.

Kneeling before me, he continues to beg for his pathetic life as it spills onto the stage. My eyes go flat with a tired expression, but I can't stop grinning.

Rubbing the sole of my foot on his head, I strain the muscles in my calves, an explosive amount of strength is focused into it.

I stomp his head into the wooden platform; my foot drives into his head, causing it to crackle before it bursts like a melon.

In a murky slosh, I pull my foot from his crushed skull. Wiggling my foot I attempt to shake off some of the brains stuck between my laces.

Turning around, I begin walking across the stage; yanking his toothpick knife out of my chest, I toss it aside.

Stretching my back, the last of the flesh wings fold back into the normal position allowing me to breathe normally once more.

Finally having enough oxygen to have a thought of my own, the blinded rage has receded.

Standing on the stage, my body is covered in blood; my maroon hair has become dyed a more vibrant red as it drips from the ends.

With my dead tired eyes, I look towards the crowd, tilting my head back.