[Crimson Circus] Director's Count

"I'm giving you to the count of 10.”

This almost mundane, almost motherly sentence seemed ever so frightening uttered from the cold, still lips of the slender figure with the blank expression, save for the slight furrow of his brow that signified him standing on the brink of his patience.

The opposing adversary towered over the two-meter funeral director in the militant-looking coat, giving a sneering cackle at him and the Jackals that gathered around him, most of them looking like little pups in comparison.

The Undertaker raised his brow, apparently surprised at the opponent's daring gesture.

"9...”

The elongated foe's cackle turned gradually into a shrill, broken giggle fit. It didn't behave as intimidated as it should have been and approached even closer, straightening its back and stretching even higher above the skeletal humanoid.

The Undertaker reached his hand to stop his growling, four-legged assistants, as they became more and more agitated at this condescending behavior.

"8...”

Losing any humane proportions it had left, the strangely stretched creature teetered and laughed, seeing the bare-armed director who dares threaten it with mere numbers. Exposing the grossly misshapen jaw in a freakish smile, it poked a bony finger at his ribs.

The Undertaker gently brushed its finger off of his uniform, and the Jackals surrounding him suddenly went quiet.

"7...”

The touch was so light, and yet sent a cold, paralyzing jolt up its arm, so powerful that it felt like it's going to split open or explode from inside. The creature shrieked and pulled back its arm, feeling satisfied that the little hounds were so scared of it that they were backing away.

The Undertaker took one step closer at it, and it suddenly occurred to it what they were afraid of.

"6...”

The creature shrunk in terror and staggered backwards, with each of the director's steps thundering in its tracks, despite his light and weightless appeal.

The Undertaker simply crossed his arms behind his back and kept nearing the now terrified beast, slowly and steadily.

"5...”

Now back to a height and posture that allow it better balance, the creature turned and tried to scurry as far as possible from the inching threat behind it.

The Undertaker did not haste his steps and kept marching on its tracks.

"4...”

Every step behind it pounded like an amplified heart beat in its rotting skull, and in its attempts to run faster it kept stumbling over its own decomposing feet, just barely getting more distance between them.

The Undertaker was not worried at the least regarding the gap between them.

"3...”

It might have been the panic building up inside of it, but the fumbling creature suddenly felt as if it was moving in a loop. The view around it seemed to start repeating itself, looking similar even in comparison to the regularly repeating elements of the Circus.

The Undertaker kept on his steady pace, as if savoring the utter mess this creature had become.

"2...”

Trying to use its legs for the best as if they'll fall apart in any minute, the creature came to an abrupt realization that he wasn't even moving forward anymore. The beating steps in his head suddenly turned faster and faster, and it vaguely occurred to it that it was in fact its own heart that it didn't even know existed. It was racing so fast the creature thought it might explode, until a surprisingly gentle touch pressing at its back caused it to stop.

The Undertaker was behind him, with the metal stinger on his finger pressing lightly into the creature's rotting flesh.

"1...”

The Creature quivered and slumped to its knees. Everything started slowly fading, except for the metallic stinger pressing at its back. Just between the ribs, holding the fragile consciousness at bay as it slowly reached deeper into its soul. And then, altogether, everything came back followed by a sharp, piercing pain ripped through the grimy flesh.

The Undertaker thrust his hand through the center of the creature's body, cracking and shattering its bones and rupturing whatever remains of internal organs it had, until his hand burst out through its chest. He then pulled his hand back through the bloody hole in the creature's torso and it soon collapsed to the ground.

He examined the glistening, misty orb at the palm of his blood covered leather glove, and then closed his fingers around it. The cloudy orb made a faint shattering sound as it dispersed and disappeared completely.

"0...”