#noeldeath

Teary goodbyes are all well and good, but the point of a goodbye is that after that it’s over, the end. And so it happens to be for Noel, the same light that had up and vanished Namiko taking her as well as thirty minutes passes you by. 

( tw: decapitation )

The screen shows darkness at first, impenetrable and deep and every other cliche you’ve read in a “twas a dark and stormy night” storybook. It stays like this for so long, in fact, that a part of you wonders if the entire execution is simply supposed to be composed in darkness, the bit that had only taken a moment in Namiko’s execution swallowing up the entire procedure in Noel’s instead.

But it doesn’t, a small fwoomp rushing over the speakers before a light appears on screen, a light turned purple by a lantern’s glass panes doing a surprisingly good job of illuminating Noel’s face. Said lantern holds itself onto the edge of a stick that she grasps, firm and every bit the cliche that her tarot card is.

There’s silence, the darkness blurring everything away more than a foot to her side, and she swallows before stuttering out an all-too-expected, “H-hello?” as she herself backs away tentatively.

She’s stopped, however, by a tall, thick wooden door pressing up against her back, and suddenly the light swells and reveals more of the space around her. Walls stretch in the darkness on either side of her, the door the only way out of this room, no longer empty but now full of present boxes of various sizes.

It becomes apparent to both you and Noel upon a bit of squinting that there’s something written on the door frame, and after leaning back and having the camera pan over the words are simple and clear: “Open the presents, find the key.”

That’s fairly straightforward. Noel pokes the large keyhole found deep-seated in the door before trying the doorknob on top of it, sighing as no reaction is procured. There’s no choice but to open the boxes, then, and who knows if any sort of a time limit exists.

She tentatively props her lantern against her shoulder as she reaches down and taps the box nearest to her foot. There’s no immediate reaction, even as she jerks back, and so she begins to gently pull it open before frowning and trying to pry away at it. Nonetheless, the box remains shut, and so she tilts it and prods before setting it down and trying a new box besides it. It procures the same result, and her brow begins to furrow in concern.

The lantern against her shoulder slips and though Noel is able to catch it before it crashes onto the floor, it falls onto one of the boxes. She grasps at her lantern in frozen fear before confirming that nothing terrible has happened; in fact, the box seems to have popped itself right open.

After picking the box up to make sure there was no key inside, Noel gently takes her lantern and pokes at another box. In the same manner as the first, it pops itself open to reveal nothing.

Noel is not discouraged, however. She begins to frantically taps away at boxes in attempts to find the key. Within a minute, she’s practically smacking her lantern against them in desperation, sweat pouring down her brow. There are hundreds of presents visible just from the light of the lantern, and she can’t even beyond that. Who knew how long she might be here for?

One of the boxes pops open, and the sound of something metallic hitting the floor rings out. Noel gives pause and leans over once more, not daring to hope.

In the process, her lantern ends up hitting one of the other presents in her carelessness. A familiar tune begins to ring out, carried by Monomi’s lilting voice.

“Half a pound of tuppenny rice,” Monomi sings, and that’s enough for Noel to look up in fear. She grabs her lantern and reaches for the box she had originally opened and, lo and behold, a shiny gold key with Monokumi’s faced engraved on it smiles back up at her. “Half a pound of treacle.”

Noel stands up and begins to shove boxes to the side, tripping over herself in her attempts to make it over to the door. “That's the way the money goes,” Monomi sings, and Noel stumbles.

No time is wasted, and with a spring, a pale colored Monobear head pops out of the box. In an instant, Noel is hanging several feet off the ground, everything from the neck up now firmly inside the Monobear head’s mouth.

Her key and lantern fall out of her limp hands, clattering to the floor. The light in the lantern goes out.

“Pop goes the weasel.”