09-28-2018, 09:40 PM
Inside all of you.
The words trickle like poison, melting through her flesh and baring her deepest fears. That unsettling seed stirs within her, coming to life as though drawn forward by the magnitude of Carnage’s power. It begins a slow pulse, but then it quickens to a tremble. A quaking of her muscles. This entire time, she has been fostering a seedling of this sickness and of his desperate need for power and influence over them. Shiya wants to object, to will herself out of this, but her meek nature stitches her lips shut. All she can do is listen and endure this pain – mental, physical, emotional – and nothing more.
You’re weak, so weak.
She doesn’t realize the breath she is still holding prisoner. It finally sighs past her pursed lips, rattled with trembling fear as his warning hangs in the air among them. A glance to her left, then right, but she knows no one. Lost and confused, Shiya merely lowers her head in expectation as the pebbles continue to stir beneath the skin.
So weak.
But nothing could have ever prepared her.
A scream tears from her throat, primal in its nature. The pieces burn like white-hot fire in the sinew, firing off her nerves and amplifying the excruciating pain. They do not escape quickly, or even cleanly. Their paths are jagged, desperately trying to destroy her muscles and lessen the beauty of her untouched (unloved) body. Her legs want to give in and to buckle, but even the idea is too much to endure. Her balance teeters until she widens the base, her legs spreading enough to prevent her from falling as the pebbles rip more.
But they aren’t just emerging from soft, delicate skin. There are scales, her reptilian, exotic beauty.
Her tie to Vulgaris.
The blood pours, no longer contained by her webbed veins and scales. The walls have been broken and her life drains into the cancerous heart. Two hollowed tunnels dive through her shoulders from where the blood is cascading down. When she sees what has been inflicted, she wants it all to be a dream. Shiya doesn’t have the strength to test the possibility – she is already so weak – and so she just stands there with exhausted eyes, the lids drifting shut.
Is she dying?
She sees mother and father, Vulgaris and Carnage… they’re all there as her world turns black and her body collapses.
The words trickle like poison, melting through her flesh and baring her deepest fears. That unsettling seed stirs within her, coming to life as though drawn forward by the magnitude of Carnage’s power. It begins a slow pulse, but then it quickens to a tremble. A quaking of her muscles. This entire time, she has been fostering a seedling of this sickness and of his desperate need for power and influence over them. Shiya wants to object, to will herself out of this, but her meek nature stitches her lips shut. All she can do is listen and endure this pain – mental, physical, emotional – and nothing more.
You’re weak, so weak.
She doesn’t realize the breath she is still holding prisoner. It finally sighs past her pursed lips, rattled with trembling fear as his warning hangs in the air among them. A glance to her left, then right, but she knows no one. Lost and confused, Shiya merely lowers her head in expectation as the pebbles continue to stir beneath the skin.
So weak.
But nothing could have ever prepared her.
A scream tears from her throat, primal in its nature. The pieces burn like white-hot fire in the sinew, firing off her nerves and amplifying the excruciating pain. They do not escape quickly, or even cleanly. Their paths are jagged, desperately trying to destroy her muscles and lessen the beauty of her untouched (unloved) body. Her legs want to give in and to buckle, but even the idea is too much to endure. Her balance teeters until she widens the base, her legs spreading enough to prevent her from falling as the pebbles rip more.
But they aren’t just emerging from soft, delicate skin. There are scales, her reptilian, exotic beauty.
Her tie to Vulgaris.
The blood pours, no longer contained by her webbed veins and scales. The walls have been broken and her life drains into the cancerous heart. Two hollowed tunnels dive through her shoulders from where the blood is cascading down. When she sees what has been inflicted, she wants it all to be a dream. Shiya doesn’t have the strength to test the possibility – she is already so weak – and so she just stands there with exhausted eyes, the lids drifting shut.
Is she dying?
She sees mother and father, Vulgaris and Carnage… they’re all there as her world turns black and her body collapses.