The darkness enveloped you once again as Pink Mando’s fingers curled tightly around you. The air was hot and suffocating, filled with the faint scent of leather and sweat. You could hear the muffled sounds of the convention outside, a distant cacophony that seemed worlds away. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as you tried to process the enormity of what was happening.
Suddenly, the pressure around you intensified. Her fingers squeezed tighter, and you felt a sharp, searing pain shoot through your body. You gasped, barely able to draw breath as the world around you constricted.
“I’m so sorry,” Pink Mando’s voice boomed, distorted and frantic. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
Her apology did nothing to alleviate the terror coursing through you. The crushing force of her grip was relentless, and you could feel your bones straining under the pressure. Each second felt like an eternity as you were slowly, inexorably compressed.
The pain was unbearable. You tried to scream, but the sound was lost in the oppressive darkness. Your body was being contorted in ways it was never meant to be, and you could feel something inside you give way with a sickening crunch.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pressure eased. You were falling again, tumbling through the air as her fingers released their grip. The ground rushed up to meet you, and you hit it with a bone-jarring impact, your body bouncing off the unforgiving surface. Every nerve screamed in agony as you skidded to a halt, lying in a broken heap.
Before you could even catch your breath, another wave of pain crashed over you. Pink Mando’s boot loomed above, the massive sole descending with terrifying speed. You tried to move, but your injuries left you paralyzed, a helpless victim to the inevitable.
The boot struck you with brutal force, the impact driving the air from your lungs and sending you rolling across the floor. You came to rest in a crumpled heap, pain radiating from every part of your battered body. Your vision blurred, and you could barely make out the towering figure above you.
Panic surged through you as you realized she was looking around, clearly nervous about being caught. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for any witnesses. For a brief moment, hope flickered in your chest—maybe she would leave you alone, maybe someone would come to help.
But then her gaze settled back on you, and you saw a cold determination in her eyes. “I can’t let anyone see you like this,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “I’m really sorry.”
With that, she raised her boot again, positioning it directly over your broken form. The shadow it cast seemed to swallow you whole, and you knew this was the end. The boot came down slowly, deliberately, giving you a horrific view of the worn treads and the dirt clinging to them.
You tried to scream, but no sound came out. The boot pressed down on you, the pressure building with agonizing slowness. You could feel your ribs bending, your skin tearing, every nerve alight with searing pain. She applied more weight, and your vision started to go dark around the edges.
Then, mercifully, everything went black.
The weight lifted, but only for a moment. Pink Mando hesitated, glancing around one last time before committing to her final act. Her boot came down again, hard and fast, pinning you beneath its massive weight. She twisted her foot, grinding you into the floor with methodical precision.
The pain was beyond anything you could have imagined, a white-hot explosion that consumed you utterly. Bones shattered, organs ruptured, and blood seeped from every pore. Your body was nothing more than a fragile shell, crushed under the relentless force of her boot.
Through the haze of agony, you could hear her breathing heavily, the sound of her exertion mixing with the distant noise of the convention. She twisted her boot again, ensuring that there was nothing left of you but a bloody smear on the ground.
Finally, she stepped back, her boot leaving a dark, glistening mark on the floor. She glanced around one last time, then quickly walked away, her heart still pounding in her chest. The convention continued as if nothing had happened, the bustling crowds oblivious to the tiny life snuffed out beneath their feet.
For you, there was nothing but darkness and silence. The pain was gone, replaced by a profound emptiness. Pink Mando’s final, casual act of destruction had ended your existence, leaving nothing behind but a faint memory and a bloody stain on the floor.
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