( No Title )
Whumpee seems to be watching their own body in a distant haze as the claws dig into their belly and rip the flesh of it open.
There is pain– oh god there is pain, whumpee watches their own body shudder and spasm as it happens– but that pain is distant and divorced, like a memory, or a rumor they once heard.
The blood and viscera spill out across the floor, like a dark pool spreading around a tangle of squirming snakes, and they watch as the jolting movement of their body slows, and the light in their own terrified, wide eyes starts to dim.
Suddenly they are somewhere else– they are in their body again, and there is no pain. But there is panic. With shaking hands whumpee puts their fingers gingerly down to touch their belly, expecting to find wet blood and pulsing organs.
There is nothing but tender, undamaged flesh, and the memory of being torn apart. Disoriented and afraid, whumpee’s whole body trembles as they try to heave themselves up to their feet to keep going a little longer.
Discussion ¬