Masterpost of hatchetober: (x)
The word echoed around her repeatedly and incessantly, sung by the undead Hive dancing and chasing around her, and she ran, she tried to run, but she couldn’t go far because her leg, god her leg, it hurt, it hurt so much, still aching from the surgery, each step sending off a new wave of pain through her body, and she tried to go faster but that only seemed to make the bandages and stitches come undone, and it all seemed to be for naught anyways, she wasn’t in the hospital anymore somehow, and wherever she was, it was just one big loop that she couldn’t seem to escape from.
What seemed to horrify her more was that wherever she had been brought to, it seemed almost like a stage, and as she stared out, she found an audience Watching her, staring at her with vacant purple eyes, and a plastered on smile. Hoping to get their attention, she yelled and screamed, trying to get their attention to help her, but they only continued to applaud, ignoring her pleas for help, and soon something else hurt, and it was her throat from calling out as loud and insistent as she could.
As she looked closer, it almost looked like the people in the audience weren’t human, but some sort of weird purple bird-like creatures, and somehow she knew that they too were beyond any kind of help.
And as she’s completely surrounded by the Hive, feeling them close in, blue goo leaking from every feasible hole, all she could feel was the pain, the hurt that was coursing through her body in waves, before her infection begins, and the hurt fades, replaced by a feeling of peace and a unified song echoing in her mind.
It hurt. She wasn’t supposed to feel anything, yet it hurt anyway. The hurt that she had felt once she was thrown against the wall all because she couldn’t complete the simple task of self destructing. It was no wonder she was a “fucking piece of shit.”