GRAVEYARD ✨
POPULATION: GHOST TOWN
You die - and then you wake up.
For a second, it feels as though you can't breathe, and then your head breaks the surface. You crawl out of a pool of blood and into a large, crystalline room. Moving images play across the crystal walls, and if you watch close enough, you'll realize that you're seeing the land of the living; a familiar space station with familiar faces. You can watch these images for as long as you'd like - there are several very large benches (as in, you have to climb them to sit on them) around the room for you to rest on while you do.
Regardless of how you died, it seems as though you're not quite gone completely. You're in one piece, at least. That's good news. However, your surroundings are not exactly what you remember.
When you exit the first room, a bleak, empty city sprawls out ahead of you.
The city itself is large. The framework of it seems to tower higher and higher than you can see, up into the black opal sky that shivers and curls every so often. A river entirely made of blood runs through the city, winding around buildings and ending at the crystal room. The most noticeable thing about the buildings themselves is the fact that thorny vines made of pure white steel dig into the walls and floor, cracking the foundations.
The residential building is worn down and old. It's two floors, and has a few small studio apartments built for one or two people to live in. The beds are extremely uncomfortable. It has a communal area downstairs, but the TV is broken, and the couches are torn apart. Sometimes, this building feels obscenely hot in temperature, and smells like rotten eggs.
The grocery store is your typical convenience store. There's a large selection of food in this area, but it all tastes the same - like chalk. On top of this, every so often there will be bloodstains on the walls, the floor, and the displays. They change in size and location, each time you enter the store.
The clothing store is thrifty in nature. All the clothes here are uncomfortable and scratchy, and don't fit quite right. While you're here, time feels... weird. Distorted, almost dreamy. As you're picking out clothes and trying them on (no money needed, just take what you want), you swear you can hear a gunshot in the distance.
Enjoy your time in this city, and remember...your story isn't quite over yet.

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[They poke at their own torso wound. It seems like its just about done.]
Can I...ask you to help me up?
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[Yeah, she is pretty strong! After getting up, Douman bows their head.]
Thank you for the favor, anyways.
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[They seem a little nervous to be around her.]
Have you been...killing a lot of people here?
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Ann and I had our own personal reasons for what we did. Rest assured not a single person in this entire damnable place is someone either of us would have targeted. And besides, it was all her idea, I just worked as her backup.
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cw: abortion-related things, miscarriage, infertility, jack the ripper stuff
She'd become a doctor after a tragic accident where her husband and unborn child died. There aren't very many female doctors, let alone female surgeons. She worked with prostitutes, low-class women, orphans, that sort of people, as a charity.
Some of the women needed her assistance with... a certain surgery. The sort of medical care that prostitutes and women in terrible circumstances need, you understand. One day, one of those women laughed in her face, said that Ann was lucky to no longer be capable of bearing a child.
That was the first woman she killed. I happened to be there, after it happened. Then those were the sort of women she went after, in the next few months, and I helped, of course. Until she let herself be caught.
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So her targets were...people who laughed at her? What they cruelly saw as a hypocritical nature?
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Still...killing them...isn't that too drastic?
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Even after you explain...I can't sympathize with you. I have cursed many at request for revenge, but...that sits poorly with me.
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[It just feels like something they have to say. To stake their claim in this fragile existence, to say that no, somehow they will not become a monster who will delight in the suffering of many.]
I apologize. I suppose it was your decision, yes.
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[That does not sound like it is ENOUGH punishment.]
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I'm a Grim Reaper. We judge and collect the souls of the dead.
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A-ah, I see...
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Unfortunately, I'm just as human as anyone else here! Even my deathscythe is useless for anything other than cutting...
I wouldn't have much to do here, but it would be better than being bored.
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oh my gosh gmail notifs no
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