Mad World

I watched as they burned.

Their screams, their cries, their pleads. They writhed and squirmed, hoping to get away from the fire, the never ending fire that just burned, burned, burned.

No one would help them. No one would save them. No one would remember them as they died in agony, screaming out to the heavens for it all to stop.

It was a beautiful night, the stars shining in the sky, the trees whispering their secrets in the breeze, the moon hanging in the air, looking down at the world. It was all so beautiful, in ways I couldn't describe. Watching them dying in the fire, their cries echoing, filling the world with the cries of their suffering, should have taken away the beauty of the moment, should have made it so much more tainted than it already was.

But somehow, it just made the darkness all the more perfect as I opened my senses, allowing my magic to feel and see things no normal human could ever hope to, reaching out to the crying bodies bound to the pyre, touching their minds, their souls as they died in front of me.

I could taste their pain, their fear. It was all consuming, all they thought about. Thoughts of the past, the future, thoughts of revenge, thoughts of their loved ones and friends were all swept away. All they could feel, all they could see, all they could think was pain.

Their faces contorted and alien, showing nothing but burning pain and terror. It was their entire world, their entire being, the pain pain pain. They didn't notice their bonds as they burnt away, they didn't notice each other's pain as they bumped and slammed into each other and they fell to the ground, didn't notice me watching them as they screamed and screamed and screamed.

The flames consumed them, taking away their dignity, their pride, their sense of self, and finally their minds as they became nothing more than disgusting animals crawling and shouting on the ground, trying to escape the never ending flames.

I pulled back, allowing their crying thoughts and feelings to fade. I wondered, dispassionately, why in moments of pain, people always thought of themselves. They went about their normal lives thinking about others, thinking about the future, thinking about responsibilities. And yet once an ounce of suffering enters their bodies, all they could think of was their selves and their pain. Loyalty, honor, and duty were all swept away. Nothing else mattered.

Elyan. Face slowly melting, mouth open wide, back arched as he screamed his agony to the world.

Leon. Legs ripped off at the knees, unable to escape as his torso was slowly consumed.

Gwaine. Spread eagled on the ground, a dagger piercing each limb, pinning him to the ground, unable to escape as the fire danced on his skin.

Lancelot. Hooks buried in his stomach. Stretching and tearing the skin, allowing the flames to burn from the inside.

Gwen. Sharp wired chains covering her where her clothes should, ripping and shredding her smooth skin as she thrashed on the ground, the fire heating up the spiked steel, furthering her suffering.

Arthur. His muscle and tissue open to the beautiful night sky. Skinned alive, tongue bitten in half from the force of his screams, he choked on his own blood as the fire, the beautiful beautiful fire, devoured him slowly, prolonging his suffering.

I looked up at the sky. My former loved ones' screams reaching their peak as their cries rose and surrounded the night.

I smiled.

It really was a beautiful night.