forbiddenpractice:
Silas snorted as his ‘prey’ kicked and thrashed about. He was more than excited to see what happened to the poor corvid. He held onto him tighter, making sure he couldn’t go anywhere as he let more of his ink drip into his mouth and into his body. He was quiet as he watched him wheeze and thrash, wondering what would happen. He was curious if he would lose his form and take on a new one entirely, or if he would lose his mind and Silas would have the delicacy of consuming his soul.
He held him tighter, shifting slightly against the wall, just wanting to ensure the sinner was unable to get away. He needed to monitor his condition so he could understand what his ink would do to someone of his age and state. He held a grin on his face as he leaned in whispering softly. “Having fun~?” He knew that soon his own whisper would fill the other’s head.
However, Silas knew he was in a world of pain. The ink burned through his insides like acid, eating away and replacing the flesh that was missing. It felt like a creature was inside him, just eating pieces of his flesh and bone. It started with organs but whatever was in the ink’s way was crunched down on and consumed.
The ink ate away at chambers, the burning pain of flesh and bones being eaten was nothing like them being reconstructed out of ink. The ink felt like it was tearing through Chambers, ripping pieces apart and trying to piece them together while being burned away. It spread through the body like a disease, and once it reached a vein and went into the blood stream, it was a searing pain, nearly blinding making it hard to focus, hard to think. The type of pain that would make someone want to die rather than live, especially with how long tthe process was taking.
“I... L...Le...” The syllables tumbled past his lips but fell into a hushed gurgling as the struggling slowed. His mind was foggy but more akin to a bird in a cage now. Thoughts were there but not able to be acted upon. The body wasn’t his, not anymore certainly.
The elder demon’s thrashing ceased and his body went limp in the other’s grip, no longer having the energy to fight or even the willingness to do so. His mind shut tight and only taking in the whispers. That was what he followed now.
A demon of his age was durable. An extermination could kill any demon but starving oneself, subsisting on the meat of other demons, surviving for so many centuries... it added up to a fantastically strong body. The disease that once ate away at the flesh was ceased but in its place was something fluid but solid. A material that could endure more than he had before, not just act as simple deterrent.
The transformation worked well and as intended. A simple puppet meant to be made to dance. The most that left the demons lips was a small guttural chatter akin to a raven’s chattering.
