RaMafia Special - The End

[mfc]

@CosmicSarasa: You first learn to verify your e-mail before saying anything.

And, even if you add one more wasted day lynch to my scenario, there is still left enough people for town to win. And yes, we would/could win even if we lynched cosmic once more, 2:8 mafia:townie. You are all making this end game ugly.

Key point is, we would make a fuss about no arresting stuff was talked.

But yes, Just because you sneaked 2 guys to green spot, you are too into the idea of town would lose, if it weren't for those meddling monks.

---

you are acting like scooby doo villains:

[Ramond]

Enough now. I'm going to remove any more debates about who would have probably won. In retrospect, all of it becomes easier to predict because there is no uncertainty about the roles anymore.

And to make it official, nobody actually won this round. It's been declared a draw (or rather, something else, you'll see when the time is right).

[A-Man]

And yes, we would/could win even if

Why, we won. Case closed. Quod Erat Demonstrandum

@^: That settles it then, I hope.

[Ramond]

[Ramond]

RaMafia - Epilogue
~written by Silverthorn



(Optionally, you can enable subtitles if it's hard to understand the narration!)

During the final night, the storm grew swollen. Black clouds veiled the sky and shrouded the town into a gloomy dark. Only a handful of candles in the settlers' houses attempted to illuminate this light-forsaken town. Meanwhile, the steady rainfall rendered roads impassable one after the other, forcing the colonists to remain homebound. But this was more than just an ordinary cloudburst. The people felt they were not alone.

Nervously, A-Man paced around. Something felt odd in his apartment. He just could not figure out what exactly it was. His metal-plated coat hung firmly next to his front door. The knife he kept by his bedside in case of an attack still lay hidden beneath a blanket. He looked out of the window. Faintly, in the middle of the pouring rain, he could see shapes slipping by. Or was it just his imagination? He blinked and looked again. The shapes were gone. He turned around and froze.

At the same time, another man cursed like there was no tomorrow. His hut's roof had leaked, and now, prince_freeza was sitting ankle-deep in the water. He had no material to patch up the hole and going out then would mean drenching more than just his feet. And so, he resorted to swearing. Not that it would solve anything but it gave him a numbing feeling of satisfaction. The cold water had driven a tingling sensation into his toes. As if something nibbled on them. A sharp pain ran through his body and when he looked down, he saw them. Fish with knifelike teeth. His blood mixing with the rising water level attracted more and more guests. There was no way he could flee from here. Slowly but steadily, the fish ensnared him. Then, they attacked at once and yanked him underwater.

Apocalipsis felt watched. He was not sure what made him believe so but its presence was too strong to ignore. Something was lurking behind the door leading to the bedroom. Being endowed with remarkable psychic powers, he just knew there was something creeping ahead. He grabbed his wand and slowly approached the door.

A porcelain crucible dropped to the ground and shattered into countless pieces. Amadis snapped out of his slumber and looked around. Somehow, a cat had managed to enter his chamber. It jumped off the table where several stacks of books blocked the view outside. Beriddled, his eyes followed the cat surveying the room. Its fur was snow white; so bright and pure that it illuminated the room. Amadis was so fascinated by this thing that he just had to study it a bit closer. Gazing at the cat, he slowly reached out to grab a rope, hoping to catch the intruder thus. As soon as he moved, the cat turned its head towards him. It had no eyes.

One settler did not seem to mind the rain outside. Instead, he felt the need to leave his house and frolic in the mud. Simon had a twisted view on the world. Most knew that since the church bell incident. And so, he ran up and down the roads, stumbling and making mud angels. As soon as he got up, water filled the forms, making them seem to move. Exhilarated by this, he immediately splashed down again and again to make more mud angels. And each of them moved.

Klodasmone lived at the very outskirts of the town and spent most of the day reclused from the bustling at the central square. He was a strange fellow who rarely talked about his personal life. In fact, only a handful had ever exchanged a word with him. Nobody noticed that his house was ablaze.

At the town square, Jernemies had established his settlement. He was a cautious man who trusted nobody. He even set up traps in his own house to chastise anybody daring to disturb his sleep. He felt safe. Should one ever enter his chamber, he would be taught a lesson. A lesson he would not forget. Jernemies sat down, waiting for the storm to recede when suddenly, he noticed the halberd he kept behind the front door had disappeared.

The stuffed vulture on the shelf staggered as Rhino.Freak picked up a humongous sledgehammer. He heard some rattling at his door and grabbed the first weapon he could find. If somebody tried to enter his house, he would not leave this place alive. Moreover, Rhino.Freak would bring him down under the earth. He was confident. The gravedigger-business had given him enough exercise to become the strongest in town. He positioned himself in front of the door, gripping the hammer tighter, and opened the entrance. A meager man was rushing down the wet road, minding his own business. But there was a second being in the house. And soon enough, there would be only one.

The town-chapel had always been a thorn in Darl's side. It was a place where people withdrew from the mundane fears, troubles, and woes and turned towards an entity he did not approve of. Since the settlers moved into this deserted town, he had enormous trouble convincing them of his belief. He did not see the chapel as a palladium of safety but as an unholy entity that rivaled his ideology. He had to eliminate this threat. Deconstruct. Eradicate. He would undo this edifice, brick by brick, even if it took his entire life.

Empirefantasy rustled through papers over papers. He knew he had placed the evidence somewhere in his stash. If he presented it in the next town meeting, the mafia would definitely be exposed and soon after be lynched off. If only he could find that last puzzle piece and put them all together! The clues had been scattered around and it was up to him to assemble them. He was completely fixated on bringing the truth that had been so violently pulled apart to light. So focused that he masked out everything around him.

Fear was a loyal companion to Ariel these days. These internecine conditions were dangerous. He observed the others and dearly hoped they would not do the same to him. When he saw it raining cats and dogs, he immediately knew what he had to do. He would have to eliminate the terror that had kept him awake the past few nights. The horror that radiated from inhabitants of this foredoomed place. He went outside to visit a friend at the edge of the town to start his deed.

Before he had fled, MangaD was a reputable politician in his old hometown. He knew how to steer the crowd to follow his decisions. But with fame came the enviers. They sought for his life, wanting to usurp his power and subvert the place into primal anarchy. MangaD was aware of them and he protected himself from mankind as well as he could. A few days ago, though, he had heard a buzzing originating from his attic. He had gone upstairs and saw wasps' nests as large as a human head. He had smoked out the wasps, tore down their nests, threw them out and watched the wind carry these paperlight balls of trouble away. It seemed like a strange coincidence that these insects made themselves known as soon as the first deceased settler had been discovered. But he was alright now, there was nothing that could harm him behind his doubly locked door and windows. Until he heard that familiar buzzing sound again, this time from beneath him.

mfc had made solid alliances with the townsfolk. He felt in charge of the inquisition and he would not rest until all of the mafia were exposed and exterminated. Little did he know what he unleashed with the last sacrifice. His house was the closest to the Mountain of Judgement, so it was his idea to push CosmicSarasa into the crater. A deep rumbling pervaded his home. He sensed that it was related to his actions of yesterday, and he was right. The mountain craved for more. And it would start by sending envoys to bring the flesh of human beings. mfc glanced out of a window and met the eyes of... something. And it spoke to him.

"I crave your wretched soul, no matter how corrupted it is. I must consume it. It shall be torn off of you. You are to be ripped apart, punished, and crushed until you beg for mercy. Blood will cover you as you are slowly drawn into the depths of hell. Your innards shall be taken from you and devoured before your very eyes. You will watch and live, struggling to cling to your pathetic life. Watching, as your life is absorbed bit by bit."

By the time A-Man realized what had happened, it was too late. A large stake had been driven into his chest. While he was dropping to the floor, he saw more and more figures manifesting around him. He closed his eyes and hoped for it to be over soon.

When Apocalipsis opened the bedroom door, he gazed into a black void. Nothing was there. But he could still hear a hissing breathing closeby. Nothing in front of him, nothing behind his back. Then he looked up.

Ariel stealthily approached the man. Before the latter could react, he was hit unconscious. "Serves you right, mafia-scum," Ariel mumbled while he tied a rope around the neck of his victim and dragged him up towards the ceiling. After fixing him to hang there, he knocked over a few candles and left. Minutes later, the wooden house of klodasmone lit up in flames.

On his way back, he noticed deep holes in the shape of angels in the muddy roads. Swiftly and with ease, he jumped over them to seek out his next target when he had to stop abruptly. In front of him lay a mangled person, face down buried in the mud. His back had been forcefully ripped open and his ribs stood out, giving him the grotesque look of an, albeit bloody, angel. Simon, the Jester, had found his maker.

Suddenly, Ariel was yanked back. He stumbled and fell into one of the holes. He could vaguely see winged figures standing over him when the first shovel of mud hit him. And another. And another. Minutes later, the weight of the soil on top of him forced his breath out.

In the midst of the pouring rain, Darl walked out and headed straight towards the chapel. He ignored the Gravedigger's door being opened and a confused, bulky man with a sledgehammer staring at him. He ignored the shadow behind Rhino.Freak that was lunging out at him with an equally large hammer. He ignored the repeated dull hits as the hammer sank down on him again and again. When Darl looked back, he only saw a disfigured shape that might have once been a man laying at the threshold of his house.

Darl winced when he reached the chapel. Its base was entirely overgrown by roses. It felt like its thorns were larger than normal. Protuding in all directions, hand-wide spikes adorned and guarded the pink petals and the edifice behind from any harm. But Darl had a mission. And he would succeed. A maniacal laughter overcame him as he began to hack at the plants to reach the stone walls and to bring them to a fall. Like razors, the thorns cut deep into his skin but he paid no heed to it. The deeper he dug into the bushes, the more he had to fight. He felt caught in this green-pink mess that gradually began to embrace and swallow him. It was too late for him to realize that there was no way to struggle free from here. His entire body was sliced up and completely covered in blood. The Monk breathed in once more and passed out.

A wasp crawled through a crack in the floorboards and investigated its surroundings. Before it even attempted to lift off, MangaD squished it with a tankard that he still had sitting on a table closeby. As soon as he lifted the jug up, another two insects surfaced. Two more hits, two more dead wasps. He could do this for hours. Sitting, waiting for the vermins to come out, and instantly swatting them. But he decided to stop there and cover the crack with some blankets before things got awry. They would not be perfect, but they gave him enough time to escape this hellhole and seek shelter with a friend. As a precaution, he picked up an axe and walked out of the front door. Just as he was about to close it, he saw wasps breaking out from every corner of his living room. Now he was standing in the rain which was still better than being perforated by this six-legged pest. He marched down the road to see whether empirefantasy could grant him some time at his place.

MangaD came by the chapel and noticed a human shape, strangely twisted and contorted, amidst the roses. He walked closer and saw Darl's empty eyes, sitting motionlessly in his pale and scratched face, staring at him, almost pleading to help him out of his misery. But it was too late for him already. Trying to get the image out of his head, MangaD hurried up and reached empirefantasy's door thereupon. He knocked. No answer. He knocked harder and accidentally pushed the unlocked door open. In front of him lay the dismembered remains of what once had been empirefantasy. Each hand of him held a piece of paper that together simply read: “Jernemies. Mafia.”
He had put together the truth that was torn apart before. But it paid him out in his own coin. MangaD could not stay here. But he had the information he needed. He rushed out and ran towards the last mafia's house. A sudden scream stopped him in his tracks. It originated from mfc's residence.

mfc was crying out in agony. A branding iron had been pushed against his upper body and now a stenciled hieroglyph emblazoned his chest. But his tormentors were not done with him yet. With satisfaction, they opened his stomach, carefully, to not cause any lethal damage. With tears in his eyes, he asked what he had done to deserve this. The winged creatures around him just laughed and continued with their surgery. The pain had reached unbearable levels. A cry was suffocated by his tantalizers with a cloth in his mouth. Somehow, though, he managed to spit it out before they could reach inside his guts. With another bloodcurdling scream, he pleaded to them. To end it quick. Before he would have to endure more pain. More laughter, and then a heavy blow to his jaw from the side. In the corner of his eye, he could see the object that hit him accompanied by a few teeth flying through the room before it crashed into a wall and dropped down to the floor to face him. It was Jernemies's severed head that now looked at him while he was still pushed to the ground, unable to move. Blood clogged his vocal chords stopping him from making any noises at all. In fear, he saw how the creatures pulled out a crimson piece of his entrails. Slowly, it pulled out more and more while mfc was watching in awe. Eventually, they finished their operation and reached down into his stomach one final time. He could feel a hand carefully touching his insides until it came to a halt. With a rapid yank, something inside of his chest was removed and held in front of his face. It was deep red and still pulsating. Before mfc could realize what it was, he finally passed out and away.

MangaD had seen all of this. He had now other worries than to arrest the remaining criminal. Running for his life, he passed his house that was now filled to the brink with black-yellow striped insects ready to end him. He passed Rhino.Freak's open door and the mudholes. He barely avoided stumbling over the Jester and the burning house at the town's outskirts. But he could go no further. A wall made of thorns easily long enough to pierce through a body and glistening in shining silver blocked his path. Something chose to keep him here and it would likely succeed. MangaD turned around and saw a buzzing, black-yellow cloud coming right at him. He exhaled deeply and walked into the veil.

---

This is it, this game has finally officially concluded. I wouldn't mind making a sequel of sorts, but I think there was not enough interest so I'll close up the saga this way.

[A-Man]

Wow, that was really something. Totally movie material. The art and the writing were amazing. The background music and the narration fitted really well.

The part where mfc was tortured was really gory. To "yank the stomach".. that's some imagination. I wouldn't want to be an enemy of whoever wrote that.

It was definitely worth the wait. Hope to see more movies of this sort from you guys, even if not necessarily mafia. I can imagine a series like that doing very well on youtube.

[Ramond]

By the way, Silverthorn and Ramond both separately make a cameo within the main video (outside of the credits roll), as in that a Phoenix and a Triforce subtly appear somewhere. Kudos if you can find them both

[Gad]

I still don't get why I am not in the video or story.

Ramond edited this post 02-14-2017 11:15 AM because:

Now you're just trolling around