Rosie's Emporium: Styling in Hell

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In the dim glow of the campfire, the war camp buzzes with the energy of exorcists preparing for battle. Amidst the flickering flames, Y/N sits with a fellow exorcist, their laughter mingling with the crackle of the fire as they share a bottle of wine.

Ulysses: "Hahaha! I'd die for you, mate!"

Y/N: "Oh, please! If anyone's sacrificing, it's gonna be me for you. Let's not kid ourselves here."

Ulysses: "No, no, no! I mean it. I would truly give my life for you!"

Y/N: "We're not going anywhere anytime soon, buddy. But hey, I appreciate the sentiment."

Their banter is interrupted by a sudden shift in Ulysses' demeanor. His jovial expression twists into a grotesque mask of pain and anger.

Ulysses: "I died for you!"

Y/N: "Ulysses, what do you mean?"

Ulysses: "I died for you!"

Y/N: "Stop it, Ulysses. This isn't funny anymore."

Ulysses: "I died for you!"

Y/N's voice wavers, panic creeping into his tone as he struggles to comprehend the situation.

Y/N: "What are you saying? What—"

Ulysses: "I'm dead because of YOU!"

The words hang heavy in the air, suffocating Y/N with their weight. His breath catches in his throat as the reality of Ulysses' accusation sinks in. Guilt floods his senses, a tidal wave of remorse crashing over him.

Y/N: "No... Ulysses, I didn't—"

As Ulysses rises from his seat, a primal terror grips Y/N's heart, freezing him in place. The flickering firelight casts eerie shadows across Ulysses' contorted form, revealing grotesque distortions that defy explanation.

Y/N's breath catches in his throat as he watches in horror, unable to tear his gaze away from the nightmarish transformation unfolding before him. Ulysses' once-familiar features twist and warp, his skin mottled with grotesque wounds that seep with dark, viscous blood.

The air grows thick with dread as Ulysses looms over Y/N, his form casting a sinister silhouette against the backdrop of the campfire's dying embers. Every instinct screams at Y/N to flee, to escape the nightmare unfolding before him, but fear roots him to the spot, rendering him powerless to move.

As the other exorcists rise from their seats around the campfire, a chilling silence descends upon the war camp. Y/N's heart quickens as he watches in horror, the flames of the fire casting eerie shadows across their contorted forms.

Their once-familiar faces twist and warp, their features distorted into grotesque masks of pain and rage. Blood drips from their skin, pooling on the ground in dark, viscous puddles. Limbs elongate and contort, their bodies writhing in agony as if possessed by unseen forces.

Y/N staggers backward, his wine glass slipping from trembling fingers, shattering on the ground below. His breath catches in his throat as he struggles to comprehend the nightmarish spectacle unfolding before him.

A towering figure loomed over Y/N, their voice booming with an otherworldly echo, "I died for you!"

A woman's voice joined the chorus, filled with sorrow and rage, "I died for you!"

A shorter figure added their voice to the chilling refrain, "I died for you!"

Ulysses, now a specter of terror, repeated the words, each syllable dripping with malice, "I died for you!"

Tall exorcist: "You failed us!"

Female exorcist: "You betrayed us!"

Short exorcist: "You let us die!"

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