I FINALLY FINISHED THIS HOLY. I'm still a beginner and criticism/advice is welcomed !!
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UNCANNY DEATHBODY
TRIGGER WARNING: Body horror, a lot of it(?)
A sound of coughing echoed throughout the space as Flake felt the force escaping his throat, his mind had gained its consciousness once more. His head was pounding, his ears were ringing, his body ached and he was covered in what seems to be a wet liquid of sorts. His clothes, a simple white T-shirt and black pants, were sticking to his body, damply and uncomfortably.
He lifted his heavy head up, immediately greeted by the smell of metal. A strong metallic smell filled each of his lungs, turning his stomach to unpleasantry. Combining this smell with everything going on... he didn't like it, even if the pain was muffled.
He looked around his surroundings, trying to remember everything that had happened. To have something to explain this dire situation. His eyes darted across his dark surroundings, some corners having a stronger metallic scent than others. Other spots, like ahead of him, had a weaker scent. To him though, it wasn't much of a change --- it was already too much, too much for him to handle.
He saw light emitting from certain corners of the space, and he finally concluded where he was. His memory instantly taking him back to what should've been his last moments ever, yet now he is sitting there. All alone, presumably. Left to somehow get out of there all by himself, or to die a fate he never wished to die to.
He is filled with sudden anxiety, sudden melancholia, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. He starts doubting the probability of this situation. He doesn't even know if he is alive, if any of the people he claimed to love the most were here with him. He wished to hope he wasn't alone, but after everything that has happened, he doubts the chance of even him being alive. He knows he is, but his brain keeps telling him otherwise.
Maybe this was a dream? Or his brain playing tricks on him? Why would he be subjected to such suffering still?
He wished to hope it was a dream but the sick feeling grows way too unpleasant for his senses to handle. He seeks out the only possible exit he can find --- the plane exit door.
The one he was at... was blocked by the dead bodies of people. People who used to have personalities, emotions and a mind of their own, now suddenly turned into mush. Flake knew exactly where he was, and he ought to get out of there. He couldn't bare to be coated in their own flesh and blood anymore, it was too much. Everything was too much.
The plane was tilted at an angle, enough to make walking impossible. He physically felt too weak to hold himself up like that, holding onto furniture while his legs took slow steps. And even if he had the power to do that, he would ultimately fall, over and over and over again. He doesn't have the energy to stand up again and again just to fail in the long run.
He started gripping the carpet floor with his nails, his hands surprisingly sticky. For whatever reason, reason that no one may know. But it aided him upwards, to his escape. He supported himself by placing his feet on the seat legs and then climbing upward.
He used everything he saw and touched as a possible lifter to escape this demise, the horrible smell and the horrible feeling of bloody clothes damp on his skin. He hoped the outside was once warmer than the interior of this wreckage. Because to be fair, while he saw no point attempting this, he hoped it was at least warm.
Each lift made him more exhausted, and once he got to the door, he carefully set himself on one of the walls to rest. He was tired, already wishing to give up on trying to get out. It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth the effort. He doesn't even know where he was, doesn't know the location he was in.
But he noticed the door. How the door was strangely ajar, way too strangely. Fresh air was coming in, and with a slight push, Flake managed to break the door off from its last screw. He was grateful for the fresh air he was given, happy that he was blessed with the freedom of getting out. The metallic scent was immediately pushed past by the sweet fresh air.
He peeked his head out, looking around the scenery. The sky was dark shades of red, somehow. The snow at the beach. He noticed the shore, and then hoped that he was not on an island. The snow had a faint blue-ish tint to it from above, making the place feel darker than it is. The forest was completely dark, as if a dark spirit had possessed it. However, what caught the attention of Flake was feeling the much colder air hitting his face like a blow.
God, dang it.
He looked frustrated, he really was. He has to spend more energy on making sure he doesn't freeze to death. By what, using wood from the forest ahead? On the snowy beach? Would that even work?
He looked down, wanting to see if he'd end up breaking his legs, himself or not by jumping down. The distance wasn't that far, he could easily get moving after.
But without realizing it, he fell.
His head hurt a little bit more, pounding more on his left side than right. He felt his eye popping out of its socket, it was that bad now that he had fallen. He was so tired, so cold now. His clothes were even more wet now, making him shiver in great discomfort.
The dampness was making him go crazy, his annoyance growing more and more like an inflatable, the clothes stuck onto his skin like unwanted guests in your own home. It made him just want to die right here and there. This is torture. He was this desperate to find a permanent fix to this eternal wetness.
But he didn't know how to bare the cold enough for that. The cold was taking him out in really uncomfortable ways, and he usually liked to do things. Such as... making a fire.
That, at least, gave him something to do with himself.
As time passes, Flake manages to make a solid fire near the forest, but far away not to burn it down. He felt a lot warmer compared to before, his clothes now dry with stains of blood all over. He was carefully treating his now-discovered scars and open wounds with carefulness, removing each maggot that had crawled in when he was in the human mush. His fingers, numb and stained from blood and the wood, carefully extracting each white worm.
He had learned the skills in school, which taught boys and girls alike how to start fires and how to survive alone. It was uncalled for at the time, a thing he felt was unnecessary, but it does pay off. Especially now that he needed it.
However, what took away from his usual calm ways was the sound of something hitting against the snow and a quiet sob. It wasn't hard, but clearly someone had hit the snow hard enough to hurt.
Flake got startled, causing him to turn towards the plane and halt his doings. It was where the sound came from, the same hitting sound he made when he fell from that height. Maybe not that severely, but it surely made the same sound.
His eyes widened at the sight of Till just... disfigured. His body was fine, some scratches and so, but his... his face. Oh my god. Oh god. Holy. He can't even tell how Till is even alive like this, it should be impossible. Actually impossible. How does this man breathe? How? Flake actually felt uncanny seeing him like this. Slightly skinny... his face...
Till's face was basically gone, from his forehead to under his philtrum. His right side had a hole in it, his left side still had his eye, eye socket and flesh left in place. His nose also got ripped out, leaving a fresh upside-down-like-heart hole of where it should have been. Till's face was just exposed flesh, leaving him completely disfigured facially. He might have a great sense of smell now, though.
Flake, nor anyone, had seen something this bizarre. And he didn't know whether to feel impressed or absolutely horrified. Till shouldn't have been able to live like this. No one should be able to live like this.
Till noticed movement almost immediately, based on his "gaze" moving towards Flake almost immediately upon moving towards him. The blonde can't help but notice Till's pupil white, foggy, grey. The man's gaze was quite intense, most likely without meaning to, making the blonde feel quite intense --- or more uncanny --- looking at him.
Yet he also knew what that could mean.
"Till?" Flake finally spoke, gently, not really sure what he could do at this moment. As he approached, he noticed Till relaxing significantly at his voice.
"Christian?" Till immediately followed up, he seemed a lot more relaxed for this 'pleasent' surprise. Though, he still had trouble looking right at Flake, at his face, and the blonde hoped it wasn't what it seemed to be.
"Where are you?"
Flake sort of dreaded this, he had at least hoped Till had some sort of vision left. But by the question, it already confirmed his suspicions. He had studied medicine personally before, he knew damn well Till had gone blind. Not fully, but only surgery can restore his vision. It was impossible to do that without it.
"I'm here," Flake finally says, approaching Till next to him and making sure the shorter one didn't just... get jumpscared, "get up, you'll freeze to death without me."
"You want me to die with you?"
"If we die, then might as well at the same time for the same reasons."
Till took time to think about his response, reaching out to the air with a hand, "I guess."
Flake knew what Till tried to signal with his hand, and grabbed it to pull him up. Till was still heavier than him, but it didn't really prove to be a challenge for him. He just watched as the shorter one got up in front of him, letting him focus on his face.
Till's eye was a bit puffy, based on the remaining flesh for his left side. He had been crying for sure, no way someone goes this long without in pain and expressing such pain through tears. There were also maggots on his face, and also on nearby wounds on his neck and hands. There could be more, but Flake wasn’t sure.
"Are you okay? You seem like you are in pain," Flake asked casually, placing his hand on Till's shoulder to comfort him.
"Because I am. It's painful not to be able to see you anymore, it leaves me sorrowful and in pain furthermore. Especially when considering what's wrong with my face," Till muttered out in response, thinking for the time being.
"How... melancholic of you."
"I thought it was poetic and nice."
Flake smiles at that. At least that man didn't lose his literal mind -- still being a poetic man like he always was, speaking in such poetic terms sometimes that could leave anyone impressed. That was the thing he would've missed the most about the man in front of him if he were to lose it to eternity.
Till just stared at where he thought Flake was and the blonde felt his heart ache once more. He felt horrible for what the black haired one had gotten into in a matter of a second, right as they were unconscious. It was horrible, and he didn't know how else to relieve Till from the pain. He knew he had to get used to not seeing anything anymore, and it was the saddest part. He shouldn't even have lost his vision in the first place.
"Come on," Flake suddenly grabbed the right wrist of the man in front of him and dragged him towards the fire. He, Till, stumbled a lot on the way there. He would even say that he got startled by the pull, he didn't expect Flake to just... drag him somewhere. Especially now.
But there, The blonde sets him down on the ground near the growing fire, the heat of the fire reaching him almost immediately. It felt nice in contrast to the cold on the snowy beach.
"I'll get more wood for when it runs out. I got so much of it before and threw them in there that it looked like a big fat Jaanituli," Flake spoke suddenly, already starting his walk to the forest.
"Hah, next time jump over it then, you know the drill of the game."
"Hey," Flake said as he stared down at Till with a smirk, "We still got months before midsummer."
"I was just jokin'."
Silence for a moment, none of them wanting to speak. But the air wasn't tense anymore. It was nice, like how it would be when you would talk to a friend who you've known since kindergarten.
"Come back in one piece."
"Don't become multiple pieces yourself, your face is already halfway there," Flake joked, already making his way deeper into the woods.
And with that, Till was left alone with the fire.
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Notes:
Not much to say here except I need to practice writing fanfics HAH
