I'm rotting inside
My flesh turns to dust
Did father care about her enough to suspend her in a void? Was he protecting her from something? Is there something about Elysha that reminds father of his rendezvous with an angel?
Infection had spent years brewing on the absence of its sibling, but it had since moved on with life. Darkness seeped into the crevices of its mind; magic burned into its soul, painfully, relentlessly. There are days when it reflects back to when Core laughed and turned Infection into a monster.
Once, long ago, the deathcrawler was a normal horse.
Blood spilled as hooves were ripped away and talons tore through its flesh. Blood curdling screams tore through the air as jagged teeth pushed out its blunt jaws. There was nothing luxurious about the transformation, but the aftereffects reaped the benefits. With a magician and the world at its back, Infection became something much more extravagant. Its name was singed into the pages of history.
The taste of blood, thick and metallic, coated its tongue as it created a bloodbath. There was a massacre as Kings fell to its feet. Their howls of pain painting the skies red before silence sealed their lips forever. That was a great time, a fear-driven time for Beqanna, but everything comes to an end. Infection’s reign concluded and, still, where was its family? Eight and Elysha were always gone, missing the triumph their son and brother bathed in. They could have been a part of it; they could’ve created a dynasty, but Infection’s lines waned and watered down with time.
Now none of his kin control the kingdoms.
Shameful.
It assumes its family to be nearly extinct or so far down the family tree that they would recognize its foul appearance and disgusting ways. The heart in its chest is black as tar with maggots squirming in its walls; it cares not that it’s alone, but it can’t deny the curiosity churning in its gut when she enters its vision. She is the beauty to its grotesque, and she is the kindness to its cruelty. Despite the time apart Infection will never forget its own twin. They shared a womb together and did have few fleeting moments embracing each other on those cold nights when Moose and Eight were absent. They share blood and they share DNA, something far more important to the nightcrawler.
And so it draws nearer with footsteps silenced by the padding on its claws. A moment of hesitation subsides as it forgets about the norms of social interaction. A ragged breath escapes its withered lungs as it reaches for her, touching the curve of her shoulder. Much of its flesh has sloughed off to expose the stained skeleton and cartilage underneath. ”Elysha,” it murmurs into her warmth while its canines trace down her back, "fancy seeing you again.”
infection
@[hanna]
Because who doesn't love a family reunion? xP