Roll up!
Taglist: @painful-pooch
As a circus sideshow act, Pythias is forced to kill her immortal friend Damon repeatedly.
658 words
CWs: immortal whumpee, multiple whumpees, temporary character death, resurrection, forced to kill, forced to whump, blood, public whump, circus, on display, captivity, past caning, implied past starvation, exhaustion
"See the incredible resurrecting man! Watch as he comes back to life time and time again! Experience the thrill of seeing death, safe in the knowledge that it won't be permanent! Be amazed at the perfect resurrection! No wires, no tricks! Within minutes, the resurrecting man will be back on his feet!"
Pythias takes a breath, gesturing to Damon with a flourish as he steps out from behind the screen in a loose white blouse and trousers, his little stumble going completely unnoticed by the crowd of onlookers. He's exhausted, the dark bags under his eyes hidden by a thick layer of make-up, but he manages a smile that just about covers the dullness of his eyes.
He knows the score. So does she. It was taught to them both at the stroke of a cane. They've got to do this, got to do it well, so convincing in their enthusiastic participation that no-one suspects they're trapped here.
And they have to turn a profit. Or they won't be eating tonight.
Pythias smiles wider. She knows her spiel off by heart now, as she pulls an ornate dagger out from beneath the folds of her blood red dress, twirling it in her hand.
Her elbow-length gloves are a delicate white, but even when they're clean they're covered in his blood.
"Are you ready, folks? Prepare for the show of a lifetime! Gather in and watch closely!"
The crowd shuffles closer, whether through obedience or curiosity she's not sure. The sideshow tent they're in is rather small, and with the onlookers so close... well, the circus director calls it intimate. Pythias prefers claustrophobic.
Pythias lifts the knife, the ornate golden handle glinting in the warm light of the lanterns, and plunges it through the slit in Damon's blouse.
Damon lets out a little gasp as the knife enters, shuddering, before he falls, boneless and empty-eyed, into Pythias's arms.
"Like a reverse damsel in distress, darlin's."
This is the worst part of the act. The lifeless body in her arms, blood spreading, staining the white fabric, covering her gloves where it comes out through the slit in the blouse, red, red blood, matching her dress, contrasting with the white, a contrast the director is so fond of. There's the incessant nagging worry that this time Damon won't return to life, the tense silence that allows the director's voice to worm its way through her brain, leaving nothing to banish it with.
It's only a few minutes but it feels like an eternity every time.
Damon awakes with a groan and a jerk, and the crowd gasps. Someone swoons. Some people step backwards, out of surprise or the fear that his abnormalities are contagious. Pythias wants to scoff. They were fine with his suffering until just now.
She helps Damon to his feet, placing a hand carefully between his wing stubs to support him as he sways very slightly. He grins and waves at the crowd in his blood-soaked blouse, although she can see the discomfort clearly in his face.
This seems to break the onlookers' silence and they break out into cheers and applause.
Pythias smiles. "Thank you, folks. Tell your family and friends about us, come and watch us again, and don't forget to visit the other sideshow acts before you leave!"
The crowd disperses after that, and Damon heads behind the screen to change his blouse, stumbling as he goes. Pythias wipes the knife on a rag until it's gleaming again and peels off the bloodied gloves, surreptitiously handing them both to Damon, to be swapped with clean white gloves that are a lie in their semblance of innocence.
As new people enter the tent, eating candyfloss and toffee apples and chatting happily amongst themselves in a way that makes her hate them just a little bit, she slips into the gloves and prepares to do the whole act all over again.
And again.
And again.
And again.