Chapter 3 : Ravaged

Her arms were just stumps, and they bled profusely. Her cheeks felt wet, so she tried to wipe it off with her hands but it resulted in a wet smack to her chin and a spray of red.

She wiped off the red on her eyes using her shoulder. Slowly, Silvia felt a small sting where her arms were supposed to be—her right thigh stung too. She couldn’t discern why it stung so much; it was unbearable. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

It Huuuurts! It hurts! It hurts, make it stop make it stop, I’m dying! Dying!!

Silvia couldn't remember how it started hurting, much less why. Silvia hugged herself as best as she could but somehow that did not work, her arms kept slipping. She could not help but rock back and forth; it was the only thing she could do to keep herself together.

Tentacles slithered around her, and like a spring her mind jumped.

That’s right! I’m still in danger, the wall of flesh is still alive. I haven’t killed it yet. I need to get away, I need to…

She forced herself to kneel and tried to hoist herself forward but she couldn’t hold on to anything and she fell and landed on her chin.

As she fell she bit her tongue and tasted salty metallic rust. Shakily she opened her mouth and blood poured out. She had forgotten; her arms were missing.

She used what was left of her arm to push. It smacked wetly to the floor. She almost fainted at the sound but she finally managed to hoist herself up.

But then, she fell again. She had overlooked that one of her legs too was gone. She corrected herself; this time with her good leg.

It’s fine, this isn’t a problem, I just need to reach my way back to my party members. Milanese might be able to patch me up back to normal.

A flash of the king’s general with a missing leg surfaced within her memories—she tried to block it out.

Milanese could do it, she could heal me. She envisioned herself, a retired adventurer with missing limbs, out in the streets, begging for food. She sniffled.

Don’t mind it, don’t mind, limbs can be reattached. I just need to find them.

She tried to look around quickly to find her severed limbs but found nothing but metal and bloodstains.

Even if I can’t find them, Milanese is a genius! Surely she could figure it out. She could heal me. She could do anything!

Silvia tried to distract herself but deep down, she knew she could never get them back. Her limbs were sucked in by the rip. No other forms of magic can recreate a proper limb.

Silvia’s future was bleak she knew it but she continued to distract herself; there was no use looking too far ahead. She was still in danger, and she needed to get away. There was no time to think.

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Silvia hobbled—every odd step she fell and had to hoist herself up. She had trouble keeping her balance and staying upright. She hobbled until she felt a tug on her feet.

She fell on her chest bouncing lightly against the strangely soft floor. Silvia looked at her good leg. Her stomach sank. A tentacle caught her, she tried kicking it with her stump thigh but the only thing it did was stain it red, it clung like a vice grip. It started tugging.

No, I’ll be killed!

With her chin She piked the floor and wormed her way off, she wriggled fighting to move every inch to escape. She wasn’t making progress, she was being dragged away.

Captured, the tentacles surrounded her and held her in place. Silvia’s heart could not take it. She thrashed and writhed, trying to get away; red spray stained the tentacles crimson. Silvia grew pale; her blood, it was spilling everywhere.

Reacting to the blood, the tentacles moved towards the source. Horror filled her soul as tentacles plunged into her missing arms and thigh, and Silvia, being ripped apart, wailed at the top of her lungs.

The tentacles wormed through her flesh—wriggling, wreathing themselves beneath her skin, parting away flesh. She gnawed but they were as tough as metal rubber and as squishy and malleable as sponge. They were impossible to break but still she bit like a rabid dog. She pressed so hard that pops cracked below her ear and her jaw ceased to move. She could bite no longer.

A large tentacle, thicker than her head, danced in front of her as if to lure her attention. As soon as she turned, it engulfed her. Everything darkened. Silvia cried out as it ate through her skull. It pressed at her neck, suffocating her—she couldn’t breathe.

Flesh seemed to meld together as a searing wave bore through Silvia’s forehead. It plowed through her brain, invading her mind. It felt like an eternity. She wanted it to stop. Blurred images appeared, and indiscernible soft voices echoed through. Then like a mist, a soothing calm spread through her mind.

She shrieked. She did not want it; she felt that something was possessing her, but she did not want to be possessed.

I want it out!

At once everything became clear: she wasn’t in the dungeon—she was outside. The sun shone above the clear blue sky, and she was in a grassland. Just below her ankles, grass covered the soil, painting the landscape green.

Something appeared in front of her. What she saw was a thing, a person with no features. The thing, the creature had the appearance that someone tore a large piece of skin and wrapped it tightly around a skeleton. It had no face nor hair and was simply the outline of a human yet with no human traits.

A deep sense of fear rose from the pit of her stomach. It opened its thin arms as if to hug her, to welcome her, to touch her. It took a step forward.

Silvia, unhinged by its sight, kicked it in utter panic. The figure crumbled and her action tore reality away. The light blinded her eyes. She gasped for air.

She had returned to the dungeon. The large tentacle retreated. She glared at it in defiance. It invaded her mind but she fought it back.

But then it returned, shooting up like lightning as it went through her spine—into her head, into her everything. PAIN. It flared within her very being. Her glare faltered, transforming into wails and tears.

She couldn’t concentrate.

It just hurts too much,

Make it stop.

Make it Stop!

Kill me!

It’s too much, just kill me!

She wanted it to stop, to cease the torment. As if reacting to her thoughts, tiny tendrils flooded in waves, they wriggled and pierced through her ears. She panicked and tried to flail but she wasn’t able; her strength was already spent. Silvia could only whimper. Tendrils pushed into her nose—more and more.

No more… please, just do it… Kil...

She weakly moaned as they gushed into her cuts. Finally it penetrated her eyes and all she saw was darkness…