The Living Purgatory [ VARIOUS JJBA x reader]

28- Yoshikage

You chose... Fight!

Flip a coin on if you win!

Heads, win, tails, lose

Flipping...

...

Tails, you fail.

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The air erupts in a brilliant shimmer. The smoked scent of gunpowder burnt your nose, the very tips of your lashes curled as they burned — you felt your skin splitting before you heard the heat crack like a whip. Torrid flames shot to life as thunders rolled along the skies.

Your body folded at the waist like a lawn chair, and you were reduced to a pile of char blown into the wind. That was the last thing Mista saw from inside the cafe window, looking out to an empty street.

His fork dropped to the floor, he hadn't realized half of his body had sagged in disbelief. His eyes were stuck on the black smudge against the ground. They crawled along the scene like investigating rats, scrounging for anything to kill the impossible thought you were dead.

Manny held his jacket close to his body,  he may very well burst into ash at that moment. He can see the reflection of steel blue eyes looking at him through the glass, but only the utmost faint depiction of it.

The wind carried ash on its back to some distant resting place, leaves hanging like noose from the tree traced each particle, goodbye, goodbye.

The entire outside reeked of gunpowder, a most sour, stinging smell that brought to the earths memory some great fire, that had melted all and gifted embers to the dry breeze.

"Hey- we have to go." Miata falls from his chair and snatches Manny into his arms, grabbing everything- the satchel, file, whatever he could get his spare hand on.

The glass by their table splinters into a fractured web, it wails from the impact, and Manny holds onto Miata's sweater like death.

The glass ruptures into tiny hairline fractures once more, then the next glass is impacted. 

The burdened ox with dauntless rage regardless of his flesh met with claw, what Mista and Manny do not see is Risotto choking the very essence of life out of Kira, slamming him by the throat into the windows and with every impact holding on tighter.

Shadows pointed to the distance, another eruption of light like a sun, supernova. The cafe explodes into a shower of glass, bodies meet the floor with weight and feel the sharp sting of hellish heat and the molten rain that falls with it. 

The world blows into a slow-motion picture of destruction, Risotto had determined to ensure that man died a second time for what he had done. 

Light screamed into the world with one last brilliant shriek, and it was minutes before Mista understood that the calm of spring had regained its position in the air peppered with ash.

The ghosts themselves had all but lost their humanity when they died, having each found some place to cower. 

Caesar phased through the door to witness the fallout, his chest struck with horror, flooded with pinpricks of some unplaceable pain in seeing the scorch marks on the road where your body once was. Risotto stared vacantly into the ground, fists clutched tight.

It was hard to see exactly his expression, the dark cloak of his surrounding air naturally hid him among the shaded things— but he was not particularly impressed. 

"...what happened?"

"He vanished."

"Vanished?" Caesar took a phantom step forward. "No- then- what about (Y/n)?"

Risotto moved his arm into some faint part of his leather cloak, and out came his little pouch, and a severed hand resting on top of it.

"They're right here."

His ghastly heart beats in a silent metronome, counting those seconds where he had felt the world sink beneath his feet. 

The hand held in Risottos much larger palm twitched unnaturally, much like a fish cast from its water, it twitched and breathed . Roots began to twist and spring from its broken wrist, bruised and scorched, its fingers were virtually shattered, but slowly begun to crunch back into place with sickening cracks.

"I cut off their hand," Risotto said, "right before the first explosion, using iron from their blood. If I hadn't, I'm sure they would not be able to deny death companion."

The hand braced itself on its fingertips, which were horribly crooked and misshapen going up the finger, still cracking back into place.

"Like a cockroach that won't fucking die." He spat. "Crush it however you want, it doesn't matter. It's going to take time for them to regenerate, but it's already in motion."

Roots continued to sprawl from the open, oozing wound in the back of the hand, gasping, reaching to brace itself.

Mista and Manny peer over the windows edge outside, the child's head hidden in his chest, pistol scanning the street. They spot the ever-enduring hand, it shouldn't have survived but persisted so, crawling along the sidewalk toward them. A spider with all of its limbs broken, still moving and making pace, if one would need a mental image.

Risotto looked at the pouch in his hand, then to" you", then back. Caesar chewed on his cheek.

Kira got away! 

Readers Choice:

>Continue Finding Josuke

>Search for Kira

>Is it raining?

Your inventory for ghosts is quite large! Let's send some to the speed wagon foundation to lighten the load.

>Send N'Doul and Caesar

>Send Mariah and Hol Horse

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Going back through this story I realize I never got rid of the towers storyline I created. I will be getting rid of those chapters and replacing them with smoothed out chapters that follow our flow instead (I will actually be doing this for the whole book, it may be some time until it is updated again as a result.) Thank you for your patience <3