snakesnbites

[snakesnbites]

Story of the Century

Synth/Heist AU Words: 1,421 Goretober Day 4: Unconventional Weapon Warnings: Unreality, death themes

Izuru isn’t very careful going home after curfew. 

   The buzzing in zir pocket let's them know there's someone out there thinking about them, that someone bothered to have a single thought of them and spend time to write out something. Its probably Rangiku, his dear sister, perpetrator of bad habits, uncouth acts and untouchable fashion. A release from the realities of the world by physically punching it the the face. Renji? A dog somewhere in the night howls, a reminder of the dogs he's willing to utilize in quick, painful revenge. Snarling and howling, striking fear despite them not even being near you yet. Izuru knew their secret, if they knew you, you could just lay among them and they would lick your face like puppies.    Just as long as you remember exactly what those teeth could do.    Shuuhei? Might be, he's rather consistent in his messages, timely and punctual, it feels like the wrong time of day for him to send his regards, however... He tended to be busy in the evenings with his own work.    Or perhaps its from Hinamori? She’s been worrying herself too much over zem. Her sweet demeanor genuine and pure, something ze never thought possible after the horrors they both had faced. Looking at her is like looking at hope, that there's a light at the end of the tunnel.    If she could do it, then so can I.    But Izuru knew that wasn't true. Ze couldn't seem to move on, seem to move forward, feet stuck in the moor of emptiness and heavy sorrow, a black tar that devoured zir limbs as ze tried to walk forward.    Like right now, zir steps were slow, the only sound in the chilled air. At least, ze thought so, usually there was no one roaming the streets at this time, the curfew keeping people in-- It got dangerous at night, they would report, that its for the safety of civilians.    Is it really? A counter report ze have made recently in the paper, noting and showing evidence of increased law enforcement activity during the time of curfew. More then necessity than needed for just some simple rounds to make sure wily kids were following the law. They had gotten an interesting email from Souske Aizen, the head of police a few days later, in layman's terms it was trying to reassure that these laws all had nothing but the public in mind. Keeping the synths and criminals like Gin Ichimaru (the slight was not lost on Izuru) at bay--    Or stray journalists it seems.    Ze saw the lights first, the only cars out now were police-- But ze weren't quick enough to pull into the alley way, the bright spot light having caught the blur of zir dress shoes and slacks.    Fuck. The red white and blue flashed ominously through he sliver of the alleyway entrance. Izuru's pace picked up with zir heartbeat, they were several blocks away still from home and a shout sounded out behind zem.    If ze were found breaking the law, the stolen research papers under zir arm-- The research would ruined, it will be seen as nothing more than a hoax created entirely out of ire and rumor. Breath hissed sharply passed zir teeth, a shout rang out behind zem, a demand to halt.   Its not a demand ze follow very well.    This probably won't be the last time ze get in trouble for it either, but now ze had to focus, duck into the shadows of garbage reciprocals as a blinding fog light, praying for a miracle that they would look down a corner just so ze could creep to another shadow.    Zir hands tightened over zir bag, hands clammy and shaking as ze held zir breath, so afraid ze would hear it as rapid footsteps got louder and louder.    “What the hell--” The lights stopped moving, stopped their search and focused on a spot passed Izuru's hiding place, and something strange happened. Lights began flickering, plunging the alley in a strobe effect, dimming and relighting, static was coming over the single officer's radio. “ O̵̘̹͈f̗͉f̻̻̯͓̩-̛̞̫̘͇ ̨e̛̙͎̱͉͇͚̲r̰͇͘,͓̱͔̟́ͅ ͙̯̮̫͚̱-͓͡-̧ơ͍̼̝̻ ͕͕̖y̲͍͙̠͈̫ͅo̻̣-̭̺͉̻͎ͅ-͖̘͙͚͉͔͢ ̥̙̮̦̮̗̳e̷̱̭̯̞̜̝ͅa̟͚-̶͎̰̮̱ͅ ̹̞͓m̴e̳̯̳?̶̬̜ ”    The sound was deafening white noise, screaming suddenly from a type of interference.    “Dispatch do you copy, dispa--”    Izuru titled zir head, peering over the rim of the rotten smelling dumpster bin ze were pressed against, the man's face panicked with the glimpses they could see in the flickering light.    But something else seemed to come from the radio and the speakers of the police car that also seemed to be affected by this unknown force, and a voice, tenor and distorted with the white noise and feedback called out in the night:    “ L͇̘̖̥̗̞ḭ̰̝̦̼̘͠t̯t̟̗̀l̙̖��͖ͅe͇͙ ̼pi̮g҉̞̣̥͖̮,̣̜̱͔ ̢l͉̤i̼̖͍̠͞t̶͔̪̮̩t̩̼͙̙̲ͅl͕e̬̭̗̖͙ p̠͞i̘̝̼̣ģ̺̤̖̣ͅ,̴̱̘͕͎̘ ̣͇̗̗̜͘y̼̭͖͔͉̤o̹̼̥̕u͎͔̙͓̝ s̺h҉̱͔̝͔o͕̙̝͚̺̬̖͞u̧l͏̙̗̠̼̣d͖͡ ҉̝̖ó̙̬̦̗͙͇͈f͚̯͈̮͓̘̲́ ͓̭̦̘͢s҉͎̲͖̪̮̻t̜́ą͕̰y͖̮̫͟ͅe͎͚͙̱͘d̩͉̬ ͔͇̤̭h̷̗̪͙͈̼o̠̞͔͙̙mẹ̮̝̜̬̦͘.͔̳͇͎̙.̙̥.̢͖̩̫̫̠̻̫ ”    Darkness enveloped the area, even street lamps further down the way seemed to have gone out. The radio ceased and all that filled the void was a curse from the officer and the sound of a gun cocking. Izuru found zir heart in zir throat, it pulsed rapidly, and they nearly mistaken slow foot falls as part for the erratic rhythm. Dear gods, what was going on?    “Show yourself! I am with the Harbor view city police! That is an order!” Static again, a strange clicking noise came from the radio upon the man's breast.    “L̢̯̰̳͕̱͉i̶̲͈̥̞̼̹t̡͔̲t̰͢l̷̪̜͇͓͍̜̪e̙̼̣͇͟ ̸̩̼̙͖̮̳̬p̛̦i̫̘̯͈̤̲͍g̛̪, ͉̖͚͚̱͓̳li̻t̼̲̝̯̺̺͚͟ṱ̶̜l̞e̢ ̞͍̼̻pi̬͕̤g,͎̯̬̞ ̶̙̥͕̼͕u͔̤̟͈͇͓n̯͘w̩̤̯̘i̺s̶̖̮͉e̱̤̼͉͉͜ ̬̠̰̩̗͇̬t҉̼o͔͎̗̦̠͖͠ͅ ͔̟c͏̲̹̲o͓̭͝m̻ḛ̸̱ ͚͖̞̰̼͡a͎̳̥̩̹̠ḷ̢̹̼͎̻one̲̮̞̺̜̕.̴͓͕.͕͕͉̙̫ͅ.̠̘͙̺͔͡ ”    The sound of rusted metal screeching against concrete, only bringing in brief moments of dim light from the sparks, a tall figure outlined in the orange ambiance, like a nightmarish shade. A horrid, crackling cackle sounded over the radio, the speaker seeming to break, unable to take the harsh frequency.    “Do̬̥͎͍͕n͈'̼͡t̯̮͈̠͇ ͙͇͟y̦̘̹̘̪̗o̟̫u̻̗̬̖͈ ̶̙̼̞̩̦̹͍k̘̲̝͕͙̟͢no̤͜w̠̺͉̣̘̤͡ͅ.̙̪̤̹̼̘̟.̙̗͍.̗̘̤͚̼͟ͅ ͕̣͇͈̗A̳c͈̲̗͜c̕i̝͉͈͓͇̜ͅde͘nt̷͉̬͖̩̠s̖̩̮ ͙̦̤͇h͏͕͍͍̙̖͉̻a̳͎͉̯̭͝ͅp̨͔͍̙̣̙pen͈̠̤?̠͕͓̭̳”    Gun shots rang, lighting up the alleyway in rapid fire, and against the far brick wall, Izuru could watch shadows like stop motion as what looked to be a thick electrical wire was rend from its foundations along the wall, and the evening filled with blue as the live wire was pressed into the officer's breast. Screams filled Izuru's ears, and zir teeth clenched to prevent zir own cries as zir legs shook and arms gripped tightly at zir book case.    It ended quickly, the lights seemed to flicker back on as if nothing had happened. Izuru rocked where ze were at, zir back sticking to some sort of unknown substance that had dripped down the side of the garbage bin who knows how long ago, and steps approached them, even and stead, and ze, against a wall and a hard place.    But it was the eyes that kept zem from running, despite that being the very thing that should have made zem flee. Bright yellow gleaming from black tar, the optics focusing rapidly like a camera lens on zir crouching form.    Static came from zir phone, and ze nearly choked as the voice from before spoke from the speakers, muffled by zir pocket.    “I̖̹͇͍͇̝͇z̻͚̼̺ṷͅr̢̝͇u͉͖̻̥̘̘ͅ ͔̻͖̣K̘̣̠̞̘͞i̢̤̞ṛ̕a̶ ”    A stark white hand extended to the young journalist, black nails shining against the purple neon flickering nearby.    “I̹͎̗ ̺a̷͔ḿ̩͚̭͔̱̦ ͏a̮̺̥̥̦̱͓͝ ̰̥̕f̪̖̗̠ͅa͚͜n̶̝̰̗ ̴͙̩ọ̵̜f̳͚̙͈͇̗ ͔̣̲͉̼̺́y҉̜o̶͚͙̥ṷ̼͘r͈͘ ̲a̼r̜t̰̼i̹̫c͕̻̪̳̭l͏͙̭es͙̞͔͍͉̥.”    A synth, a bio engineered android, or at least, a type of one. The being before him looked of flesh, where it was exposed outside of the nice, perfectly clean black suit they wore. But it was bleach white, unnatural to the human eye, as was the smile filled with jagged glass shards of teeth and bright blue gums. Long wavy hair cascaded down their back, looking more like a very fashionable business man than the murderer they just showed themselves to be. But those eyes, they glowed in the dim light and didn't straw away from zem for a moment, predatory, like a bird about to drop down upon prey.    It sent a chill down zir spine.    “W-who--”    They stooped to zir level on the filthy alley ground, a hand slowly coming up towards zem. For a terrifying moment, Izuru thought it was going to grip zir throat, however, it went to the fringe of zir bright blond hair. Fingers, almost to delicately pulled a bit of debris from it, before smoothing it back down. Breath escaped them, as if ze had been holding it in for hours.    Zir phone crackled to life again, even thought the being's mouth went from a grin to a closed mouth smile, a pale hand extended to zem.

   “Y̤̹̗̺͇̦͔o͍̹͈̫̞̩̳u̫͇̰ ̡̝ͅm͚͓a̙͎͓̜̯̮̟y��̥̻ ̖͔͖̼̣̼ͅc̬̥a̵̦̙̳͔̝ḽ̹l͓͉̬͔͓̫̬ ̱m͈̟̤̺̩ͅe ́P̵̲͙͈͍̝r̮̗͜í̪̤̫̩̠ͅn̴͔ç͓ip̶̹̠l̩ḛ͎̖̟͍͓͉.̻ ҉I͔̜͖̘ ̺͉̦͢h͏̱͉͎̫a͔̥̭̗̟͠v̧͕e̵͉͕͓͎̳̺ ̯̫̺ͅa͚͖̜͎̣͚ ͖̖p̸͎̫͉ͅr̰̭͓ͅo̤̳̞po̶̻̝̻̭s̶̹͕̬̬̥͉i̥̖͙t̹͡i̪̠͙o̤̙n̳̺̬̝̟̗̦ ̛̮f͙̹̪̩̲o̦̰̘͔̳ͅr͇͙͝ ̞̙͖̠͔̦y͙̣̫̯̕o̙͉̺̯̬̲̬u̢.̞.̧͙.̲̼̘̫͔̘̼”

Text from:    Momo Hinamori    Hey, did you make it home safe?    Be careful, they have been upping    the patrols along your route.

[snakesnbites]

Routine

I like thinking of this as a warm up because I haven’t written anything in awhile! So here’s an hour writing on Lark, a character from Era’s Project Strife!  Don’t Stress!  

Goretober: Day One - Skinning

It was just supposed to be a routine, it said in the report that it wasn't very serious, probably a minor monster of sort with only a few civilian deaths recorded. It was close enough to one of the Entertainment Squad's help centers to cause concern-- Lark had only gone to perhaps help train new recruits on that even though they were in a squad that didn't do a lot of fighting, they were still soldiers. It was just supposed to be routine. Is it routine, when something in the back of the lieutenant's mind felt off? It made the black feathers decorating their breast and shoulders rise and reveal the emerald green underneath. There wasn't any reports of a swamp being outside of this town, no sign whatsoever on the maps. “Lieutenant Lark, is this the right place?” It is, but it all felt wrong. This is in the middle of a dune heavy desert. Trees stood here, six in two neat rows, stooping low from the weight of a strange, red moss on their branches; oddly connecting to one another like string and blocking the sweltering sun. In fact, its fairly cold here, a fact the half dozen of the other soldiers showed by rubbing their arms, their attires were not meant for this. “Well, this is a shitty oasis.” Green eyes slid to the side at the tall man who spoke, his freckled hand itching at the mess of blood red hair upon his head. A nervous gesture despite the seemingly bored comment. “Stay on your guard, something isn't right--” A sound rustled behind them like harsh air passing too fast passed one's ears, causing white noise and drowning everything into a surreal garble. Before Lark could even whip around, the musty, heavy air was suddenly befouled by something else, alarming and cuing all natural instinct. Copper, an all too familiar scent stung their nose just as their eyes locked with the movement of trees above, and the sudden rain of red splattering to the swelling soil like a broken faucet. A fear gripped the young Lieutenant's heart, chilling them to the spot as their mouth fell open along with their comrades at the sight of the stringy moss went to work on its prize. The foliage's hair-like strands straightened, pulling between the trees like a saliva heavy mouth opening to devour them all. It stretched the solder in it's grasp a long with it, like one would do to hide before tanning it. The strings cut into the flesh, a hot knife through butter, his screams and pleas shrill and muffled by the gargling of his own blood. A web-like string cut through his throat in a fine line, silencing him, but still the blood drained, and ground seemed to soak it up greedily, drinking it in as the weight of the soldier became dead They moved precisely, they began to jerk and swipe, pulling skin away from muscle, peeling it away and ripping the red meat from bone in fine slices like a sharp blade peeling a potato. The branches, akin to spider's legs holding and turning their prize to get all of the skin they could. There were more screams now, other soldiers were being grabbed and entangled in the dangerous web and despite their flails, it only gripped tighter, one it squeezed too hard, and Lark watched him pop like a tomato. The Lieutenant found themselves flung into the trunk of one of the trees suddenly, pushed out of the way as a soldier took their place from being grabbed. Her screams would haunt them for weeks, and they watched a singled thread, delicately touched her sharp chin, before sliding under the skin, pulling up the flesh despite her desperate cries. Lips were carved from their foundation, her teeth becoming exposed; the tip of her tongue, out from screaming, dropped to the ground with hardly a sound and was pulled into the soil. “Harley!” Lark's hand shot to the tree's strangely soft trunk to steady themselves, a loss gripping their chest, a numbness and a throbbing in their ears, deafening. A freckled hand grabbed them, the owner screaming something unintelligible as they were pulled from the bloody marsh, screams and white noise in their ears and the smell of freshly butchered meat stained their senses. The screams grew faint as the ground beneath the only two survivors became sand once more, the trees now out of reach. But Lark will always remember the sound, and the sight of finger like branches stitching the newly obtained skin to their own trunks with bright red thread. It taught Lark that routine is never as it seems, a lesson that paid in lives.

[snakesnbites]

Goretober 2017

hey everyone, here’s the list I’m gonna go off of this year! I couldn’t find one I completely liked, so I just made my own. if anyone else wants to use this, feel free.

1. Skinned 2. Eye trauma 3. Decapitation 4. Unconventional weapon 5. Torn apart 6. Nosebleed 7. Glitch gore 8. Mouth trauma 9. Sickness 10. Backstabbing 11. Oozing liquid 12. Extra limbs/eyes 13. Bones showing 14. Torture 15. Excessive blood 16. Crystal gore 17. Monster form 18. Impalement 19. Surgery 20. Surreal gore 21. Amputation 22. Burns 23. Head wound 24. Hooks 25. Stitches 26. Bruising 27. Segmentation 28. Lacerations 29. Gutspill 30. Candy gore 31. Bandaged up

[snakesnbites]

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