Post by Luzia Gottschalk on Jan 6, 2020 0:27:08 GMT -4
Why?!
Luzia could see it in her head, over and over and over and over and over again. Blood, broken ribs, spilled guts, dead, dead, dead empty dead empty eyes.... It was so clear to her, she could see it like it was in front of her eyes! And it kept fucking rewinding! His torso kept exploding right in front of her!
Over.
And over.
And over!
It didn't stop. It didn't stop. It just kept rewinding, rewinding, rewinding. All his blood, all his organs, spilling out in front of her every time. His eyes emptying every time... those bright, bright, sweet, beautiful blue eyes dying every single time. She could see his skin peeling apart like a bloody balloon, she could see his muscles exploding like strings! It kept replaying in her head, she couldn't stop it! She couldn't stop it!
Why did he let it happen?!
Why couldn't she stop imagining it?!
Why did Niso let himself be hit by people? Why did he let himself get damn near killed by them?!
All she could imagine, over and over and over, was the one thing she heard about. It kept playing out in front of her, over and over and over again. It made her angry, it made her sick. She wanted to vomit every single time she saw it. She saw that weird liquid person cram themselves into Niso's mouth. She could see his throat bulge as that thing forces itself into him.
Why could she see it so clearly?
She could see it pulsing in his chest, squirming and writhing around under his skin. Then the building... she saw it get bigger and bigger in his chest, until... until...
She gagged, again, holding her head, her finger clawing at her hair as she hunched over. It was too much... she wanted to puke! She was scared, angry, confused... she saw him die again and again and again, and she couldn't stop it. She wasn't around, she couldn't help him, she couldn't protect him! ...But he didn't want to be protected. He let it happen, that lady online told her so. Did he want to die? Why? WHY?! Why did he want to die when they had something so good going on?!
Luzia grit her teeth, her fingers twitching, then trembling. She couldn't breathe, she could barely walk, her eyes darted left and right. Her body was so tense, so tight, like all of her muscles were squeezing at once. She was angry. She was hateful. But she wasn't angry at the thing that tried to kill Niso... she was angry at Niso! What the hell was he thinking?! Did he want to leave her that bad?!
She growled, her anger building. Her body was tight, she felt paralyzed. She could barely breathe, she could feel her breath choking in her throat. She felt everything... anger, hate, fear, betrayal... she had to feel better. Feel better. She had to feel better...!
Her bag!
Luzia suddenly went wide-eyed, remembering what she had grabbed running from Shinagawa. Desperately, with shaking hands, she shoved her hand into her bag, pulling out the plastic-wrapped happiness. "SHIT!" She yelled suddenly, slamming the bag down on a bench. It was for needles, she couldn't swallow or snort this at all! It was useless, she couldn't take it the way it was! She had to feel better, and this was absolute shit!
"Hey!"
Luzia gasped sharply, whirling around. The first thing she felt was a jolt of fear piercing through her anger; there was a very tall man in front of her, and she just put down a bag of drugs. There was something about him that seemed familiar, though. He walked up to her, but she just stared at him. He was talking, but she didn't hear. All she felt was the anger bubble up again. She had to feel better. Feel better.
Feel better.
She knew how to feel better.
The man reached out to touch her shoulder, and at the exact time, lost in her own thoughts, the Painter suddenly sneered, a snarl coming out of her as pink light suddenly jutted out from the underside of her fist. She screamed as she threw her hand around and slammed it straight into his thigh. He screamed, and she ripped her arm away, shoving it up between his ribs, a place she knew would shut him up.
He started to run. She didn't like that. He shoved her away, turning to try to run. He was weirdly okay... The Painter snarled again, rushing forward, neon afterimages behind her as she jumped into the air, jumping onto his back. No one got away. Ever. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" She screamed, again, but he reached back, grabbing her arm. "NO! NO NO NO YOU DON'T FIGHT BACK!" She screamed again, using her other hand and stabbing him in the other side. He grunted again, but he was still fighting. Good. Why? Why wasn't he bleeding?!
Wait.
Everything stopped. Her blood went cold in her veins, her breathing stopped; everything froze, everything went quiet. His leg was healing... it wasn't bleedy anywhere near as much as it should, and it was closing, she could tell! How?! That... that wasn't right! He was supposed to bleed! He was supposed to die! How was he healing?! She didn't even feel the elbow to her head that knocked her off of him, she didn't feel the ringing in her head. How was he healing?!
The image came back. Niso choking on some liquid person, grabbing his chest and clawing as it as he swelled and swelled until he popped like a blood balloon. It played in her head again, his blood and insides everywhere... she hated it so much since... since...
Luzia gasped, going wide-eyed, staring at the man as he crawled away even faster, getting on his hands and knees. Suddenly it made sense! She sneered again, the ice in her veins turning into a boil in an instant. This bastard... this bastard, this fucking bastard could heal just like Niso! It made her angry! She could feel her blood boiling, she could almost feel it bubbling in her veins.
"BASTARD!"
The Painter jumped up, running over to grab his head. "YOU LIKE BEING STABBED, HUH?!" She pulled him back harshly, throwing him onto his back before kicking him in the face, a wave of glowing light flowing out of her head. "YOU'RE REAL GOOD AT HEALING, HUH?!" She grabbed him by the head, digging her nails as deep as she could. Feel better.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crackcrackcrackcracksquishsquishsquishsquish.
"I BET YOU LIKE THIS, HUH?!"
Red. Light. Blood. Bone. Brain. Red, red, red, bloodbloodbloodbloodbloodsomuchblood. Luzia knew nothing but fury. She smashed his head against the bench over and over and over and over and over and over, slamming his foreahead against the metal armrest in the red-hot fury that defined the Painter. It felt like an hour, an hour of smashing, of screaming. She finally stopped, though, panting heavily, her blood-covered hands twitching softly in pain.
Quiet.
So much quiet.
For another 'hour', Luzia stared at the body, blood dripping off of her fingers. "Heal from that," she said, her voice an exhausted whisper. She stared at him, waiting for any sign of healing, blood pooling back, something pulling itself back together... but nothing happened. She smashed his head against the bench so many times he didn't have anything above his nose anymore.
She didn't feel better. She was tired, she hurt, but she didn't feel better. She felt empty this time. She wasn't happy.
She turned away, her arms limp at her sides as she started to walk. Her neon leaked out of her arms, but she didn't make any sort of art this time. Just waves, lines to follow to the body. She wasn't even fully aware of what she was doing... it was just habit at this point. Maybe the news later would cheer her up...
But for now, she didn't feel better.
Luzia could see it in her head, over and over and over and over and over again. Blood, broken ribs, spilled guts, dead, dead, dead empty dead empty eyes.... It was so clear to her, she could see it like it was in front of her eyes! And it kept fucking rewinding! His torso kept exploding right in front of her!
Over.
And over.
And over!
It didn't stop. It didn't stop. It just kept rewinding, rewinding, rewinding. All his blood, all his organs, spilling out in front of her every time. His eyes emptying every time... those bright, bright, sweet, beautiful blue eyes dying every single time. She could see his skin peeling apart like a bloody balloon, she could see his muscles exploding like strings! It kept replaying in her head, she couldn't stop it! She couldn't stop it!
Why did he let it happen?!
Why couldn't she stop imagining it?!
Why did Niso let himself be hit by people? Why did he let himself get damn near killed by them?!
All she could imagine, over and over and over, was the one thing she heard about. It kept playing out in front of her, over and over and over again. It made her angry, it made her sick. She wanted to vomit every single time she saw it. She saw that weird liquid person cram themselves into Niso's mouth. She could see his throat bulge as that thing forces itself into him.
Why could she see it so clearly?
She could see it pulsing in his chest, squirming and writhing around under his skin. Then the building... she saw it get bigger and bigger in his chest, until... until...
She gagged, again, holding her head, her finger clawing at her hair as she hunched over. It was too much... she wanted to puke! She was scared, angry, confused... she saw him die again and again and again, and she couldn't stop it. She wasn't around, she couldn't help him, she couldn't protect him! ...But he didn't want to be protected. He let it happen, that lady online told her so. Did he want to die? Why? WHY?! Why did he want to die when they had something so good going on?!
Luzia grit her teeth, her fingers twitching, then trembling. She couldn't breathe, she could barely walk, her eyes darted left and right. Her body was so tense, so tight, like all of her muscles were squeezing at once. She was angry. She was hateful. But she wasn't angry at the thing that tried to kill Niso... she was angry at Niso! What the hell was he thinking?! Did he want to leave her that bad?!
She growled, her anger building. Her body was tight, she felt paralyzed. She could barely breathe, she could feel her breath choking in her throat. She felt everything... anger, hate, fear, betrayal... she had to feel better. Feel better. She had to feel better...!
Her bag!
Luzia suddenly went wide-eyed, remembering what she had grabbed running from Shinagawa. Desperately, with shaking hands, she shoved her hand into her bag, pulling out the plastic-wrapped happiness. "SHIT!" She yelled suddenly, slamming the bag down on a bench. It was for needles, she couldn't swallow or snort this at all! It was useless, she couldn't take it the way it was! She had to feel better, and this was absolute shit!
"Hey!"
Luzia gasped sharply, whirling around. The first thing she felt was a jolt of fear piercing through her anger; there was a very tall man in front of her, and she just put down a bag of drugs. There was something about him that seemed familiar, though. He walked up to her, but she just stared at him. He was talking, but she didn't hear. All she felt was the anger bubble up again. She had to feel better. Feel better.
Feel better.
She knew how to feel better.
The man reached out to touch her shoulder, and at the exact time, lost in her own thoughts, the Painter suddenly sneered, a snarl coming out of her as pink light suddenly jutted out from the underside of her fist. She screamed as she threw her hand around and slammed it straight into his thigh. He screamed, and she ripped her arm away, shoving it up between his ribs, a place she knew would shut him up.
He started to run. She didn't like that. He shoved her away, turning to try to run. He was weirdly okay... The Painter snarled again, rushing forward, neon afterimages behind her as she jumped into the air, jumping onto his back. No one got away. Ever. "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" She screamed, again, but he reached back, grabbing her arm. "NO! NO NO NO YOU DON'T FIGHT BACK!" She screamed again, using her other hand and stabbing him in the other side. He grunted again, but he was still fighting. Good. Why? Why wasn't he bleeding?!
Wait.
Everything stopped. Her blood went cold in her veins, her breathing stopped; everything froze, everything went quiet. His leg was healing... it wasn't bleedy anywhere near as much as it should, and it was closing, she could tell! How?! That... that wasn't right! He was supposed to bleed! He was supposed to die! How was he healing?! She didn't even feel the elbow to her head that knocked her off of him, she didn't feel the ringing in her head. How was he healing?!
The image came back. Niso choking on some liquid person, grabbing his chest and clawing as it as he swelled and swelled until he popped like a blood balloon. It played in her head again, his blood and insides everywhere... she hated it so much since... since...
Luzia gasped, going wide-eyed, staring at the man as he crawled away even faster, getting on his hands and knees. Suddenly it made sense! She sneered again, the ice in her veins turning into a boil in an instant. This bastard... this bastard, this fucking bastard could heal just like Niso! It made her angry! She could feel her blood boiling, she could almost feel it bubbling in her veins.
"BASTARD!"
The Painter jumped up, running over to grab his head. "YOU LIKE BEING STABBED, HUH?!" She pulled him back harshly, throwing him onto his back before kicking him in the face, a wave of glowing light flowing out of her head. "YOU'RE REAL GOOD AT HEALING, HUH?!" She grabbed him by the head, digging her nails as deep as she could. Feel better.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crackcrackcrackcracksquishsquishsquishsquish.
"I BET YOU LIKE THIS, HUH?!"
Red. Light. Blood. Bone. Brain. Red, red, red, bloodbloodbloodbloodbloodsomuchblood. Luzia knew nothing but fury. She smashed his head against the bench over and over and over and over and over and over, slamming his foreahead against the metal armrest in the red-hot fury that defined the Painter. It felt like an hour, an hour of smashing, of screaming. She finally stopped, though, panting heavily, her blood-covered hands twitching softly in pain.
Quiet.
So much quiet.
For another 'hour', Luzia stared at the body, blood dripping off of her fingers. "Heal from that," she said, her voice an exhausted whisper. She stared at him, waiting for any sign of healing, blood pooling back, something pulling itself back together... but nothing happened. She smashed his head against the bench so many times he didn't have anything above his nose anymore.
She didn't feel better. She was tired, she hurt, but she didn't feel better. She felt empty this time. She wasn't happy.
She turned away, her arms limp at her sides as she started to walk. Her neon leaked out of her arms, but she didn't make any sort of art this time. Just waves, lines to follow to the body. She wasn't even fully aware of what she was doing... it was just habit at this point. Maybe the news later would cheer her up...
But for now, she didn't feel better.
