T/W | Mentions of ma*g*ts, incision, and hints at cannibalism, slightly slightly spciy
Instruments of death lay next to a sitting coffin, ready for the reaper. Pointed ends, and sharpened blades glimmered underneath softened light. A stage ready for slaughter.
"Ah, my favourite patient." Death spoke.
His mask's beak pointed down at his favourite prey. Stitches frayed — maw almost ready to open wide and swallow whole.
"Quite observant aren't you?" He reached a hand to his head, "I need to have it changed. I was," he titled his head, "too eager last time we met."
Heat bloomed underneath skin, bubbling upwards turning thinking into a fly no one can catch. Perhaps, when death wins it can lay maggots in its place. Though, knowing him, he would rather preserve the brain then letting it rot.
"What lie shall we tell each other today?" He reaches a hand, hovering it slightly above the beating heart. "Maybe I will be able to get a good inside you."
You.
The only mass composed of the six elements, muscles, flesh, organs, and most importantly, a beating heart that he did not wish to tear apart. He wished instead to study it, use his hands to make an incision, and note every inch. Be so close he can taste you through his mask.
He felt you squirm underneath him, the feeling of his palm laying flat against your chest enough for your delectable brain to short circuit. Oh, how he wished to bite your little head off.
"Doctor?" You ask, confused.
He leaned forward, body encompassing your own.
Leather rubbed against the skin of your neck. Your ear able to pick up on the sound of his breathing, deep oddly patterned gulps of air. Almost as if he was eating you in his mind.
You stiffen once you feel his hands going up the meat of your thigh. His covered nails a reminder he could tear you apart in seconds. Most would be fearful, you felt a pleasant sensations crawling alongside gloved digits.
"Ah I see now, a high heart rate. Tense muscles. And, a sweet..." He nuzzled upwards on your head, "scent."
"He-" you jolt.
One of his nails tore a small precise hole in your clothing, sneaking underneath, and reaching underneath your underwear.
It was your turn to hyperventilate. Every stroke of his thumb on your skin made goosebumps dot your figure, only serving as a siren's song for death's hunger.
"What a beautiful body." Doctor whispered, timber slightly distorted by his beaked mask.
Then suddenly he detached himself from you. A slight quiver visible on his standing body.
"That's it?" You quickly ask.
"Disappointed?" He laughed slightly.
You sat up and looked down, trying to assess the hole he created. It was covered with a bandaid. What a silly man death was.
"When did you-?"
"If you do not leave, I won't be able to assure your..." He spoke into your ear, "your safety, patient."
This is SOO cute <3 omg the art style is so amazing I love how Pierrot looks sjajwjsjsj. He would though cutie probably will go steal all the chocolate.
Moonlight's voice whispered through crickets and soft sighs as day comes to rest. Colors faded into nothing, darkness resting its head in earth's embrace.
People adhered to the call, their bodies relaxing, muscles tired, yet still carrying them home. Safety had dulled their senses, unable to fathom eyes peering down their back as they go home.
Darkness did not teach them fear as it did to you — classroom made of circus tents with open maws, it's curriculum sharp teeth. It is your favourite class, of life.
You were almost home when you heard it. A call echoing in bell form, volume so soft it slipped into the depth of your heart. Here, you felt it. An urge swallowing you whole. Run, Run, Run.
"Pierrot?"
Once more, the bells softly toll. Their sound reminding you of just how silent everything else was now, not even the night whispered, the crickets as silent as a corpse.
His head was suddenly appeared. Heart eyes focused on you. He hadn't made a sound, no bell, no thump. Simply here he was, peering through the darkness from behind the brick wall.
Pierrot was barely visible, a blackned figure staring in the night. But. You had honed your eyes to see him, you had to. Still, you could only see hazy shadowed white, that mask stark.
Long fingers gripped the side of the brick, nails resting softly on top. A reminder he could slit your throat, he simply doesn't wish to.
"Are you... walking me home?"
He titls his head, his body almost purring at the sound of your voice. He seemd to be vibrating from joy, his nails digging in slightly.
"I'll... take that as a yes."
Pierrot nodded then softly slid behind the walls — he made sure to keep his bells sounding off. A wordless "I'm here."
