Kyouka stood over him, chest heaving, sweat dripping off her chin and mixing with the blood staining her face. Her arms felt like molten lead, every muscle screaming, but she didn't let her grip loosen.
Satoshi tried to lift himself, clawing at the dirt with stumps, his head hanging by tendons, voice bubbling out.
"N-No…! Don't— don't… do this…! FUCK—!"
But it was over.
Kyouka drew in a deep breath—haa…—and stepped forward. Her blade glinted red with his blood as she swung it around behind his dangling head.
One clean motion—no hesitation. There was no pity.
SHHHK!
The blade slit clean across his already torn throat, slicing the last threads of flesh.
Shlup…
Satoshi's head fell free, rolling across the blood-slick ground and landing with a thud. His eyes, frozen wide in disbelief and rage, stared up at nothing.
His body twitched once… then fell still.
