Crack Of Dawn (Dream x GeorgeNotFound)

Execution

George readied himself for a sickening scene. He'd seen a handful of movies that had made him queasy, all usually filled with various forms of torture and body horror. But if he was to get through this without being covered in his own vomit, he'd need to steel his stomach.

He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling. After a few failed attempts to do a breathing exercise to calm himself, he gave up and sat in silence.

No sounds came.

No screams, no cries, no pleas, nothing.

He cracked his eyes open just enough to see the man expectantly staring back at him with his arms folded over the table. It was unusual - how a murderer about to take a life could behave with such poise, George thought. But so far all the man had done was surprise him, so it wasn't entirely out of character.

It seemed the execution wouldn't start unless George was fully present and invested. His path to squirming out of the uncomfortable situation was cut off. The man had really wanted him to witness the scene that was about to unfold. George eyed the ornate dagger clutched in his fingers, awaiting the slow and excruciating torture to begin.

And in a blink of an eye, it happened. The psychopath's hand shot up, only to come down with full force into the cop's body with a sickening squelch. The first blow - the one George had expected to ease them into the grizzly scene, like some messed up murder foreplay - had been a devastating one.

Instant cries and gurgled screams followed, the pain in the victim's voice realer than anything George had ever heard before. True shrieks of terror. He couldn't comprehend the realness of it all.

Once the wails died down into muffled whines as the cop struggled against the blood pooling in his mouth, the hand gently eased off the hilt of the dagger, although leaving it in place.

The man spun his chair around, momentarily standing up to rummage through his boxes and return with a sledgehammer in his hands.

George's stomach dropped. Ideas of what could possibly happen trickled through his head, none of them any better than the former.

He didn't have much time to imagine the outcomes, though, as the masked man hoisted it up to level it with Scott's face, lifting up his chin to look him in the eyes.

"Right..." He tilted his head in some sick imitation of curiosity. "I wonder how much pain this will cause." After a short hum, he added. "Probably not enough to make up for all of it you've caused others. But it's a good starting point."

George cringed as the sledgehammer was brought up in the air above Scott's face despite his gut wrenching pleas against it.

Silence.

Right.

George had to actually watch the 'display'. A satisfied noise met his open eyes.

The tool was slammed down onto the cop's face with a crunch. The body was angled a little higher than where George was sitting, but he could see how the blood flowed and glistened under the dim lighting.

Surely that was enough force to kill a human, George thought, but the man didn't seem quite satisfied.

"A resilient one, aren't we, Scott?" A muffled laugh from behind the mask. "I wonder what you're fighting so hard to live for."

So the man hadn't died. He probably didn't have long to live, though, considering his bashed in skull and a gaping stomach wound.

George watched the figure looming over the bleeding body dip his fingers into the blood. After a few moments of hovering there, they disappeared behind the mask with a sickening slurping noise. They came back spotless, so George could only assume what had happened.