I am such shit
Boys who have yet to be released to the public (• u x u •)~* an Alicanto, an ex-member of SBI and a current member of Corvus.
(tw- death, gore/disgusting shit, torture)
Blooming red flowers spread across the pale expanse, patches swayed and grew through the frozen ground they were planted against. As the coagulated flora bud along sinking hollows and twisting curves, deep violet pools leaked closer to the surface. The sound of stunted, meaningless life buzzed in the air as insects were birthed into the cold, dead mass, writhing with an insatiable hunger. The sharp, intrusive stench of rotting flesh came crawling back to its usual rooted spot within the hound’s nostrils, as it had been for months.
He wondered how the flies had gotten in and reproduced so quickly but speculated no further. Only small, useless thoughts seemed to dig their way into his incompetent and aphotic head. They must have been made all the same to the maggots huddled together in squirming masses against Israfil’s decomposing corpse. The hound was certain that was all that was left of his mind, a lifeless cadaver left for the scavengers to tear away at as it slowly melted into the earth to become nothing more than shit and dirt.
As Clair was lead within the imposing stained walls of the all too familiar gallery, everything loomed around him, watching and aggressively anticipating his judgement. His heart beat rapidly as the silence consumed him, accompanied only by the repetitive tap of boot heel to hard floor as they walked. He could feel the same bugs squirming in his head begin to burrow madly into his filth-ridden veins. He wanted to sink his nails deep into his flesh and peel it all away, desperately craving to strip every single fucking inch of humanity from his essence. He needed to skin himself of this god awful human form and the churning chemicals that had ruined him. Thirsting hysterically for the comfort of escape, to run as he had done so before. The dog tried to steady his breathing as every instinctual alarm within his essential being screamed at him to escape, yet he continued to follow closely behind his reaper.
Kay, without having to say or do a single fucking thing, succeeded effortlessly in further humiliating him as Clair made some sick joke of an attempt to pray, hoping to the god who damned him that there would be mercy in what was yet to come. His eyes burned into the back of the demon’s neck, watching every muscle extend and retract as he was guided into the bowels of his inevitable demise, the knowledge that this place would be his eventual grave made his stomach flip. The long, sable barbs planted solidly against the length of Kay’s spine flexed, a movement drawing all of Clair’s horrified attention to them despite it lacking the smallest amount of solace before his punishment.
The room was devoid of anything remotely comfortable, a thin layer of ashy film coated the once white walls scarred with scratches and indents. Wooden crates of variable sizes lined the edges of the room, stacked carelessly a top one another and spilling onto the scraped tile floor, similar to all the other rooms Clair had been allowed access to. The air was stale and a majority of the lights no longer flickered to life when Kay ran a hand along the wall to switch them on.
Clair knew the demon could feel the fear that radiated off of him, he felt exposed on every level imaginable. Pinned to a board with nails and dissected; organs pulled from their place and tacked along side him. His very being was nothing more than a pliable substance for Kay to toy with as he pleased. He desperately wanted to say something, anything that might convince him to show the slightest ounce of mercy. He had already begged for his life once, being stripped of any pride that might have kept him defiant to Kay’s will before.
Clair’s voice caught in his throat causing a weak break in tone as he stuttered out a pitiful apology, “Please-” he rasped. Kay moved from the doorway slowly, allowing Clair to step into the room fully. He leant against one of the crates with his arms crossed, his size alone was intimidating but the stern expression carved into his face along side disinterested, pitch black eyes created a deep and timorous tremor within Clair’s essence. He wasn’t sure if the demon was even listening, “Please, sir, I won’t do it again. Please….Kay” the hound stumbled over words recklessly. A short burst of amusement seemed to flicker in Kay’s narrowed eyes as Clair spoke frantically, he pushed himself from the crate and stood over the hellhound. Kay out-bulked him effortlessly, seemingly lost in his own thoughts while considering what might be done as a result of Clair’s disobedience. “I’m sorry, I won’t fuck up again” he continued to plead, cut off as Kay abruptly swiped his hand out and gripped him by a fistful of hair. Clair lurched forward with a gasp as the demon jerked his head upward forcibly and looked him in the eyes, “Don’t lie to me, you useless cunt” he growled, baring his serrated teeth.
The hound tried to keep his cool as Kay continued, “Every single fuckin’ thing y’ve done ‘as been a god damn fuck up, y’tryin’ to tell me y’ve just now had a change a heart” he snorted, a low hiss escaping his throat. Fingers flexing against Clair’s scalp, Kay dragged him to the center of the room as his irritation seemed to surge further with each jerking movement. Letting go of his hair, Kay pressed both palms to Clair’s shoulders. The amount of strength he was holding back was evident as he forced the hound to his knees, “I did what you said, I killed that girl” he cringed, “-I brought you Roiben, hell, Israfil is out there rotting into the god damn ground. I haven’t done anything wrong” his voice lessened to a desperate whisper as his hope began to fade. Kay kneeled down beside him, the slight curve at each end of his lips displayed his entertainment towards the dog’s efforts. His hands pressed smoothly into the grooves above Clair’s collar bones, almost mockingly compassionate as he grinned.
“Shut up” Kay responded, the calm tone coated the underlying rage that boiled deep in his gut. He slid his hands down from Clair’s shoulder slowly, trailing his sharpened nails along the fabric. Clair flinched, but said nothing, his eyes grazed over the gentle movements following Kay’s hand as it reached into a strap against his side. A serpent writhed itself into knots within him as he began to panic, eyes catching the glint of one of many of Kay’s knives. He bit his lip in an effort to obey Kay’s request but he felt as if his heart were about to burst, drenched in sweat his thoughts scattered like roaches.
“Please please don’t Kay I swear sir I won’t do it again please!” he reached out for Kay’s arms as he lost all cool with the thought of being fucking gutted. Kay was still grinning but his tone was even, smooth, almost reassuring, “Take it off” he spoke, eyeing Clair’s jacket. The hound didn’t catch his glance as he panicked further, wrapping his hands around Kay’s forearms and heedlessly pleading with the demon. His entire focus had gone into the blade Kay was now gripping between his palm, he wanted to shift but his essence was still failing due to the heroin that he’d shot into his veins the day before. A brute pressure was forced against Clair’s face, cutting off his rapid pleas and bringing his attention back onto Kay’s voice. With one hand his fingers dug into Clair’s cheek, thumb pressed roughly under his chin to keep his head directed toward him. The edge of the knife began to prick against his throat as Kay held it there with his free hand, the hound of hell went silent.
“Take off your fucking jacket, Clair” he repeated with a growl deep in his throat, his narrowed eyes burned into the dog’s.
His breath caught in his throat as he shakily released his grasp from Kay’s arms, slowly bringing his hands to the metallic zipper. The demons sharpened nails continued to dig into the soft flesh of his face as he pulled the metal tab down, Clair could feel Kay’s eyes cutting into him as harshly as his knife would be soon enough. He closed his eyes, seeking some small moment of comfort in the darkness of his lids. The jacket slid from his arms as he jerked his shoulders up as carefully as possible to avoid having the blade dig any deeper into his throat. When it fell to the floor the hound parted his lips in an effort to breathe out any form of persuasion he could, but Kay interrupted with a scoff as he pulled the knife back and absently began to twist the handle in his palm, “Shirt too” he spoke sternly.
Clair didn’t hesitate this time, he pulled at the fabric stuck to sweat drenched skin around his throat, yanking the collar of the shirt over his head. His muscles shook with impending dread, a vicious dog panting heavily against the back of his neck as it eagerly awaited the signal to attack. His temperature began to drop as the damp air around him hit newly exposed flesh, giving excuse to the rigorous trembling that shook through his entire body. Clair’s gaze fell to the concrete floor, arms dropped at his side as his knees began to ache against the solid structure they pressed against. There was a moment of silence before he felt his head being forcibly moved once again, Kay’s thumb underneath his chin.
The hound refused to look him in the eyes as the demon growled another low response, “Clair-” he spoke with the same even tone he’d been using. The hound’s lips curled back and he held back a snarl, brows furrowed as his glare was directed towards the stained floor. Kay gripped the knife firmly, “Look at me, Clair” he continued. He felt numb, the insects that dug through his flesh burrowed deep into his core and he was left with nothing but a dull ache through out his entire being. Fear and anger extinguished with the forlorn realization of his irredeemable situation, exhaustion spread throughout each shaking limb and he could only respond with short, defeated breaths. Clair slowly brought his gaze toward the demon, the pitch black pooling against amber without a trace of compassion. A smile crept slowly across Kay’s face, “What are you so scared of? It’s not as if you can die, how else are y’supposed to train a dog without punishing them until they learn properly?” Clair’s eyes began to sting as Kay spoke, burning in the back of his head as he bit his lip in an effort to suppress the welling tears.
Kay’s grip fell, fingers tracing the tight skin of his throat as they began to press roughly around his trachea. The pressure wasn’t strong enough to cut off his air way, but it kept Clair from struggling as the tip of the knife pricked below his sternum. Swiftly it cut deeper into the muscle underneath his ribcage, centered delicately as a deep, red line began to lengthen down to his abdomen. Clair was shocked at the lack of pain he felt despite recognizing the pressure of the knife that was being applied. Not being able to bend his head down in order to see the exact damage Kay was beginning to inflict might have been responsible for his inability to grip just what was being done to him at the moment.
A stinging sensation grew underneath his chest, followed by a wetness that began to drench his stomach and mingle with that sweat that had accumulated there. It dripped down as the pain began to surge deeper into Clair’s core. His eyes widened, it felt as if every nerve in his body had been harshly resuscitated as they began screaming out for air with aching chests. He wanted to cry out but he refused to give Kay the satisfaction of verbalizing the anguish that began to wreak havoc within his entire being. His teeth dug into the soft flesh of his lip, doing little to pull his mind from the focus of the horrible burning that spread through his gut. The bugs that had nested between the crevices of his ribcage became frantic, as if being smoked out they hurriedly burrowed closer to the caustic surface in order to escape. Clair groaned roughly while hornets drilled through inches of flesh and muscle, the beats of their wings rippled through bone as their toxins were left to soak into the soft tissue they tore through.
Once he finished the vertical incision, Kay brought the dripping knife to his lips slowly before sliding his tongue across the length of the blade. Clair gasped for air as he tried to keep from panicking, though he couldn’t see the wound he could feel the amount of blood that was beginning to pour from it. The pain began to surge deeper as he panted, fangs bared at the demon as they locked eyes. Kay smeared the rest of the falsified liquid on his shirt sloppily, having no interest in the taste of a dog’s blood. He scoffed with one palm still gripping the hound’s throat roughly but said nothing, “Fuck” was all Clair managed to breath out as he gripped his own knuckles tightly. He brought the knife back to the dog’s torso, carefully lining the tip a few inches to the left of his naval as he drove the blade across his lower abdomen horizontally. The red, flipped ‘T’ rose from the surface of his tanned flesh as dark flowers bloomed from the carving. The cut broke through the layers of epidermis and past the hard muscle, Clair’s intestines pushed against the opening willingly as their bindings were loosened. Bile began to rise from his esophagus, he felt the acidic burn in the back of his throat as he tried to swallow back the urge to vomit. Kay released his grip and Clair’s head wilted, he jerked forward with palms pressed against the cold floor as he wretched. The product was black, pure essence of his true being that had escaped his innards. His eyes fell to the wounds, the organs that began to protrude and the endless blood that poured down him, his ragged breaths as tears began to crawl their way from his lids once again. He couldn’t hold them back this time, streaming slowly down his cheeks.
The act only encouraged Kay further, he couldn’t remember having succeeded in breaking the hound so badly before, the tears were a new feat on his behalf. Reaching out a hand, the demon pressed his palm to the back of Clair’s neck, tilting the hounds head back up towards him and running his fingers through his hair almost soothingly. He looked at Clair, examined him in every way, the tears that flowed down steadily, clear compared to the dark red that was streaming from his gut. The dog said nothing in his defeat, watery eyes averting any gaze toward the demon. Kay smiled coldly and accepted the silence, “You’re going to run out of tears before I’m finished with you, Clair” he exhaled.
The demon slid his knife back into the sheath at his side, now using the grip he had on the back of Clair’s head as a way to keep him from struggling. He dragged his other hand along the hound’s thigh slowly, feeling the tremor in his muscles from the touch. Clair tried to jerk away as Kay’s hand steadily closed in on the incisions, but his efforts succeeded only in tiring himself out. He was filled to the brim with a sharp, acidic pain burning deeper and deeper into his essence, drilling into his heart as his adrenaline rose. Though the quick bursts only left him more exhausted as he continued to lose blood and, hopefully he prayed, consciousness. As Kay’s nails touched the soft, broken tissue that lay exposed in the wound Clair gasped desperately, “Please-” he begged, face burning, “No more, I’ll do anything, it hurts so fucking much, Kay, please” the hound forced the words from his corroding throat. The demon smiled at him, digging his nails deeper into the cross section between both cuts as he wrapped his fingers around the smooth, elastic length of organ that was coiled gently within the dogs gut. Clair’s voice rose in volume and increased in agony as he gritted his teeth and placed both hands around Kay’s wrist tightly, growling instinctually as the pain seared into his lower abdomen. The action did nothing to keep the demon from jerking his arm back with a twisting motion as he yanked the bile and blood coated length of intestine from it’s place within Clair. His head fell back as he groaned from the pit of his rupturing stomach, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck” he repeated as he felt his innards being emptied.
The feeling of someone inside you beyond the lengths of limitation that came with intercourse, Kay’s hand so deeply pressed into the core of his physical being, feeling every warmth of the soft, guarded flesh and organ that wasn’t to be exposed. The openness of the act, the air hitting him in areas never meant to feel it, beyond the endless waves of agony that flowed over him he felt something he’d never felt before, the level of exposure he felt mentally was now pressed with the new equilibrium of his physiology. Another surge of bile rose up, and he had to tilt his head back down to release it. Coughing roughly, though this time there was blood in the mixture as well, tears poured from his sockets without shame. The hand that Kay had pressed to his neck slid to his collar bone and upward again slowly, thumb regaining it’s placement below Clair’s chin as his fingers steadied the movement of the hounds head. A length of reddened saliva dripped down the edge of his mouth as he was forcibly angled upwards toward Kay, he breathed heavily and irregularly. Fading in and out of reality from the amount of pain writhing within every inch of his body, when he moved his eyes the edges around his sight became blackened. His gaze stayed focused on Kay’s face, dully, he couldn’t feel anything but the physical agony of his intestines being ripped from his innards, his mind was without even the small, writhing life of a maggot, barren.
“Ah ah, you aren’t passin’ out yet, babe” Kay dropped the sopping length of organ and brought his wet hand roughly to Clair’s face, patting his cheek repeatedly. A weak groan was all that escaped him, eyes burning into the demons throat as his cognizance was regained. The fingers that steadied Clair’s head were moved from against his cheek and pressed softly to his lower lip for a moment, Kay planted his index and middle finger under the dogs tongue and against his inner bottom jaw. With Clair’s mouth forcibly widened, more bloody, acidic drool hung from his parted lips as he growled anxiously. He watched as the demon reached back down with his free hand to grip the dog’s bloodied intestine once again, pulling out another foot slowly as he brought it closer to Clair’s face. He shut his eyes tightly as he felt the cavernous pit grow in his mid section, his flesh swallowing more of the damp air around them, the emptiness of being gutted. With his fleeting strength he jerked his head away and involuntarily cried out, with his mouth free of Kay’s fingers he spat roughly against the floor. The demons irritation grew quickly and he grabbed Clair’s shoulder with one hand, nails digging in the tense muscle as he yanked roughly on the length of viscous organ gripped tightly in his other palm.
As the revived pain tore through the dog’s stomach he screamed, it was primal and pathetic and as his voice died down to a whimper he was jerked forward again. Kay shoved the torn end of the intestines into Clair’s mouth aggressively, shoving past the dog’s tongue his knuckles grazed the inside of his cheeks as the organ was forced deep into his throat. The demon laughed as the hound of hell began to choke and cough furiously, tears fell as Clair leaned over in an attempt to vomit what tissue was caught in his throat, gagging desperately. Kay pushed himself from the ground swiftly, looming over Clair as he regained balance before stepping over to the disheveled boxes and taking a seat. The entire length of what was shoved down into his mouth was spat out as he tried to regain his breath while still watching Kay’s movements.
He was still bleeding profusely, what had leaked onto his pants began to soak down and stick to his briefs as well. The thin streaks of blood that had been smeared were dried and the thick tissue that had been torn hung from the cross section where Kay dug his hand into deeply, a majority of his bowels were loosened and snaking closer to the surface, following the length that had been exposed. The blood wasn’t clotting fast enough to keep the rest of Clair’s organs functioning and his core temperature had already dropped exponentially. He wasn’t going to last much longer in his current state, especially lacking the responsiveness of his essence when it came to shifting. The pain burned into every crevice and niche within his muscle and flesh, his chest ached and his heart was failing. Clair’s fingers and toes were getting numb and he was losing proper motor skills as he trembled, trying to pick up the section of intestine that had fallen to the floor.
“Eat it” he heard Kay speak from the distance where he was now seated, Clair’s head jerked up in disbelief at the command. The demon caught his confusion and repeated himself sternly, “Eat it, Clair” he grinned slowly, still boiling with rage and distrust towards the hound. When Clair didn’t move his voice grew louder, “If you don’t fucking eat it I’ll make this worse than y’could possibly god damn imagine, I’ll tear your shit body to shreds before throwing you back into Hell were you belong. Do you fucking understand me, Clair?” he threatened.
The hound looked down to the piece of organ that hung from his wound and back at Kay who was undoubtedly pissed the fuck off. He was losing himself, he wouldn’t last much longer in this condition but he knew that if he collapsed now there would only be more pain when he awoke in his recovered condition. He could no longer feel the burning sensation of the salty tears that poured from his eyes as an unexpected sob racked his chest. He couldn’t tell if the blood had ceased because there was no more to expel or there was simply too much blood to focus on how much more was still leaking from the gaping wound. He reached down for the flesh, having trouble gripping it due to the greasy residue and the lack of sensation in his hands, he had to watch himself wrap his fingers around his own organ in order to make sure he was actually picking it up. He no longer had the energy to tremble, the color faded from his skin as he lifted the piece to his lips slowly. Clair felt the demon’s eyes watching every movement, judging what would be good enough before he could put a halt to this abiding, bestial discipline. He bit down on the intestine, a rippling of sensation he’d never experienced. As he was satiated and feasted on simultaneously, as he was added to and subtracted from equally, as the pain cycled through each nerve he destroyed with the taste of himself bleeding onto his own tongue. He continued to bite into and tear at his own flesh, sobbing through each wet gasp for breath as he slipped into a state of shock. As he swallowed down flesh more of it came rushing back, he continued to vomit blood but stuffed the tissue deeper down his throat in agonized desperation. Gagging on the taste of bile and copper. As his teeth tore chunks from the length of intestine he could feel himself being torn away at, he could feel every nerve that was destroyed as he consumed his own being and fought back every urge to vomit and cry and beg for mercy. By the time he had gotten to a fresh foot of his ringed organ, the world around him was blurred and he could no longer focus on the movements of his hand in order to be sure of what he was doing, his fingers loosened and the meaty tendons slid between his bloodied hands. He felt his heart beat slowly fade as there was no longer any blood left to circulate through out his veins. Each of his organs began to fail but he couldn’t feel any more pain than what he had been going through, when his body shut down the essence wouldn’t be able to function in it’s human form so he’d have to wait for it to heal in order to shift properly again. The process was a final effort for any overwhelming damage that occurred to a hellhound whose essence was stuck in it’s physical manifestation, he would be dead for days with the injuries he’d sustained.
He wanted to worry about what would become of his body while in this state with Kay around, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t think anymore, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe. The anticipation of death was the most comforting thing he’d felt in a long time, he couldn’t chew anymore, he keeled over, hands slipping against the blood stained concrete as he fell onto his torn stomach. He couldn’t hear whether Kay was satisfied or agitated by his passing, he didn’t care whether he awoke in the gallery or in a ditch or back in Hell. He didn’t care anymore and it was the happiest he’d ever felt in a long time before everything went silent.
Warning y’all who follow me right now that I’ll be posting like six pages worth of gore, tagging it the same thing I tag all of my long written pieces so pray for your well being.