What You Feed
Little inky smudges sat in the ridges of scales. Charlie’s coloration was dark enough to blend in to, not that it terribly mattered how it looked to him. So long as it was thin enough and stuck enough for the redhead to ignore, considering his far more pressing circumstances.
The Sickness isn’t just one thing. It can send out its tendrils into objects, creatures, people, and grow and grow and grow until it consumes.
The bigger boney fleshy monstrosity was off to lay in wait someplace to be fed. This bit of it was waiting for another more impressionable target.
When Charlie next approached Liam, it would wait for a touch to smear itself onto the younger walker’s scales, or it would find a looser scale on Charlie’s arm, dislodge it and ride it to the ground.
Maybe it would drop itself in front of Liam to be stepped on and slide between his claws, or hitch a ride on a demon if necessary. It wasn’t picky. It would find a way.
But once it was there, it would settle between his scales as subtle as it could manage, and wait for just the right moment to give him a thought. A feeling, mostly.
It’s so exhausting, just going along with this. Isn’t it?
@secondhandscales