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tampered2006-10-09 09:57 pm
silkcutremix.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-10-09 09:57 pm
Log; Complete
When; October 9th
Rating; PG-13
Characters;![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bitingnightmare The Corinthian, silkcutremix John Constantine
Summary; It manifests and it consumes from the belly and outward.
Log;
John had stopped puking, but there he was in the bathroom still. He had been in there for hours, perhaps "shouting" every now and then in that laboured gurgle of his, just to assure the Corinthian that he was still alive and was doing better in there than out on the couch. Still he was hot, but he no longer had sweat, having to gasp instead. It brought him a small relief.
The porcelain was warm under his fingers. The tile was warm under his rear. He hugged that damn bog as if it were a longtime mate and they had just been reunited.
No longer he puked, but his ankles were too thin. He had noticed right now, noticed the slight distortion in his feet, the sudden... aging of the rest of him? His skin was pale, but his hair had gone dusty and somewhat whitish in places. His vision swam and blurred. Couldn't keep his eyes open lest he get dizzy and going into another vomiting fit. He had nothing left to bring back up.
So this was where he shriveled up and died? Should have known. He did not feel very deathly though, his innards were hot and tight, slowly slithering about in him like steady serpents. The dog that lived inside his belly seemed to claw inside him and gnaw.
That attack took place on the last night of the full moon, didn't it? Werewolf bites had a unique odor about them, a usual telltale sign, but even if he had contracted lycanthropy, wouldn't he be dealing with this shite in a month? Then again, the virus had different strains. Too bad he had been too ill to do anything about it. Must have been its way of making sure it'd keep alive and make more blokes miserable after.
The seat of the stained toilet was cool against his cheek.
Rating; PG-13
Characters;
bitingnightmare The Corinthian, silkcutremix John ConstantineSummary; It manifests and it consumes from the belly and outward.
Log;
John had stopped puking, but there he was in the bathroom still. He had been in there for hours, perhaps "shouting" every now and then in that laboured gurgle of his, just to assure the Corinthian that he was still alive and was doing better in there than out on the couch. Still he was hot, but he no longer had sweat, having to gasp instead. It brought him a small relief.
The porcelain was warm under his fingers. The tile was warm under his rear. He hugged that damn bog as if it were a longtime mate and they had just been reunited.
No longer he puked, but his ankles were too thin. He had noticed right now, noticed the slight distortion in his feet, the sudden... aging of the rest of him? His skin was pale, but his hair had gone dusty and somewhat whitish in places. His vision swam and blurred. Couldn't keep his eyes open lest he get dizzy and going into another vomiting fit. He had nothing left to bring back up.
So this was where he shriveled up and died? Should have known. He did not feel very deathly though, his innards were hot and tight, slowly slithering about in him like steady serpents. The dog that lived inside his belly seemed to claw inside him and gnaw.
That attack took place on the last night of the full moon, didn't it? Werewolf bites had a unique odor about them, a usual telltale sign, but even if he had contracted lycanthropy, wouldn't he be dealing with this shite in a month? Then again, the virus had different strains. Too bad he had been too ill to do anything about it. Must have been its way of making sure it'd keep alive and make more blokes miserable after.
The seat of the stained toilet was cool against his cheek.