[Dream, Flashback] kazamidori

[PepsiYuuka]

That was enough to bolden the last of them into choosing their fates.

Several fled. Others grit their teeth and chose to join their fallen fellows. A courageous, but wholly idiotic choice, Yuuka's inner monologue told her. Some met their end with a bit of disgusted kicking, the kind one would use to toss a particularly nasty piece of trash out of their way. Others simply found themselves impaled on the blunt side of the pitchfork. All in all none of them were very pleasant ways to go. The humans should have thought of this.

One more that approached found a swifter end, her superior height giving her all that she needed to direct the fork end of her weapon into his skull. The ground- and she- were both beginning to get quite out of sorts, covered in blood and body parts. It was unseemly. She frowned, her mind for the time being more focused on this than the fight around her. Something told her she needed to get used to this "thinking" thing a bit.

The lunge forward from one bearing a scythe was unexpected. She swung her remaining arm in front of her face, feeling the blade catch against the handle of her weapon, though part of it still sunk into her arm. By now rose red-colored blood was dripping down most of her remaining limbs, and her thoroughly torn back stung from overuse. She should have wanted to give in. But inside of her, deep in the corners of her mind and the back of her heart, she heard something else- something a bit unexpected.

"It's really quite fun, isn't it?"

At that, her smile returned.

Suddenly, she yanked back on the blade of the scythe, though she could still feel the sharp edge cutting deeper into her forearm. But it was enough to surprise her opponent, and that was all she was asking for- anything else was just extra. She swung her leg just in time for the human to not be quite back on his feet yet. Though not a particularly powerful kick, she had aimed it square in his diaphragm- and so again, he faltered, the breath knocked out of him. His scythe clattered to the ground below.

Not a miracle. Just enough.

She twisted the pitchfork again in her grasp, pointing the handle end out. Though she wasn't entirely sure of the thing's capacity, she would make it work. She lined up her aim. Through the current fighters. Made a line of sight on those who were fleeing. A damn shame. She'd put so much effort into this field, but she'd have to go and mess it up for the sake of these humans.

As her energy flowed into the tip of the weapon, a pure white line of light drew itself into existence, as if that filtering through a slowly opened door.

Her off-balance body wasn't totally prepared for the kick back, which drove the fork bit hard into her midriff as the beam opened up. Ouch. Still, despite the minor setback of perforated internal organs, she grit her teeth and held out. She counted silently to herself as each human in turn disappeared into the light. The deep hum of magic flowing through her eardrums drowned out any screams.

The fork was not meant for this purpose. She was tired. She was desperate. She didn't know what combination of these factors caused it, but it didn't matter. In short order, the weapon burst open like a firework, launching parts everywhere and knocking her unceremoniously to the ground.

The light dissipated, leaving nothing but the smell of burnt grass in its wake.