Beneath Her Skin
A scene with my OC that I've had stuck in my head for a while now. Figured the spooky month would be the best time to finally get it out.
Can also be found on my AO3: Here
Warnings: Horror themes; Body horror; Face and eye trauma; Eldritch horror. Can be read out of context; you don't need to know a lot about my OC.
Words: 435
Black mist spilled from her pores like sweat off a cow's hide. The air grew heavy with dark matter until it coagulated over her skin, building over layer after layer until her wrist stretched, her palm elongated and each tip of every finger extended and bent to sharpened angles. As the mist continued to spill and build, her hand reached out, roiling and shimmering, toward the ethereal light glowing behind two narrow corneal panes.
First, the claws which once resembled humanoid middle and ring fingers sloped downward, almost touching her outstretched thumb. Together, the three digits plunged into the mouth that gaped before her, keeping the orifice wide and open with a twitch of her knuckles.
She pushed deeper and deeper yet against drooling teeth and a spasming throat until the needle-like points of her index and pinky slid underneath the pair of sclera above the nose, slotting latch and hook. She continued. She pushed. The inky shadows spilling out of her skin then pooled onto the face, consuming its color, its features; drowning the nose and lips and lashes. Liquid darkness poured into each dip and crevasse and overflowed over the cheeks and chin like a dribbling fountain she was now elbow-deep in.
She rummaged around, angling her arm this way and that and even braced herself with her other hand against where the forehead would have been, chasing the heat the glowing thing emitted. Eventually, she would finally grasp it, trapping that which represented the source of absolute self within her gnarled fingers. She pulled up and in the process of wrenching her arm free from the black abyss, thin strands of hot light pulled taught and clung desperately to what little identity it had left. It was like uprooting a plant — the way a single firm and steady tug was all it took to dislodge it from its soil.
As her arm pulled away, the depths filling the cavity crawled back up along with her, revealing the face of a husk; its mouth still agape and it's dented eyes rolled back. Now just an empty vessel without a means to interpret its agonized state, the body crumpled and writhed at her feet.
Shiloh stood tall, her arm still arrayed in black and billowing water, and with an unyielding grip having a glowing soul in her hand full of another's hopes and dreams. Her fingers twitched, the membrane popped, and the light spilled into her palm. The heat cooled as it ran its course following the current, ultimately to be absorbed — and in its last moments, she felt it wriggle beneath her skin.
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