Her hand was clamped to her stomach, she could feel every pulsing, hot gurgle of her organs, just barely held in by the plane of her palm. Along with the hot and sticky sensation of her own insides, there was a pressing feeling of burning and cramping. Drawing in a shallow breath, it was hard not to choke on the blood bubbling up in her throat.
“Hey,” Ash croaked, tanned flesh tinted bone white. The corners of her lips tugged up in something that resembled a pained smile. “You good with a needle an’ thread?”
“Gonna need a lot more than that,”
Laughing was too painful, but the corners of her lips tugged up briefly in a small smile, within the split second before she realized that he was indeed about to pour the whiskey down anyway. Her lips parted, and she cringed when the liquid hit her tongue, mingling with the blood that felt like a coating there.
The fingers of her good hand dug down into the stiff, gore stained carpet. She could feel herself slipping. The edges of her vision blurred into blackness, her glassy eyes rolling back–no! Fight it, fight it you useless bitch! The thought played on repeat in the back of her mind: fight it, fight it, fight it. The tattered skin around her stomach was almost bleaching whiter, a stark contrast against the practically black blood pumping from the wound.
It wasn’t hard to see the spider web of veins beneath translucent skin, in fact, the sight was decidedly unnatural. Like tree roots, the capillaries trailed up her exposed belly, completely visible not unlike a victim of a lightening strike, but they were grey, almost pitch dark.
The needle plunged into tender flesh, her teeth baring almost immediately. She didn’t just look like she was dying, she looked like she was dead. Her eyes were marred with bruise like circles beneath them, her lips were colorless, tinted purple. She retched, turning her head to keep from puking, but instead a little giggle streamed out. The sound was demented, and it sounded like more than one voice, the second layered over the first and pitched down to an inhuman degree. Her giggle rose to a cackle, white eyes peering back up at Chi with a level of consciousness that she had lacked since sitting down.
“ W̼̭̬a̸͚̻̞̹̣̣n̪̟̝̟̰na̧͍̭ p̰̯̩̯ͅͅl̤̠ą͉̞͖̪͎̮̣y̖ ̳̝̭w̯̩̦͡i̳̹̺͈̬̭͘th͚͙͖ ̢͓m̲͙̕y̡ ̴̗g̗̮͔̣͇̟̥u̻̼̻̳t̤̫͍s͙̩͕͙̙͓͓͠, ͓͓͍̬̼͟b̲͕̩͞i̠̭̣͕͈̪̘g҉̭͓̮͉͙̥ ̝ͅb̪͕͜o–”
Her hand rose up, and she appeared to give herself a hard smack against the cheek, enough to rock her head to the side with a series of disgusting pops and cracks. Then, those big brown doe-eyes were visible again.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Ash gasped, hot tears pooling, but she swiped them away before they could fall. She hated this. More than anything.
