turnsheet_bureau:2:separating_the_monster_from_monstrousity [Contagion]

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======Separating the Monster from Monstrosity======

CW: Mild Gore, Mild loss of autonomy and physical degradation (Lottie) 

There’s an itch in your brain – a wandering thought that has entangled itself amongst your other concerns. You look into the eyes of Raindrop, amongst others, and although they yield to your unspoken request to be the group's vanguard, you realise – would they hesitate to shoot? Can they be reasoned with? The fire in their eyes says no. 

So you go in alone.

The creaking of rusted hinges gives you a final warning as you slowly push open the door to the infirmary. A light flickers above you as dust lingers in the air, starting to settle – only the sound of static causes disturbance here. 

You walk into the infirmary, though it is more akin to a dance – your feet moving delicately, silently across the floor. Your finger is anxiously rested upon the trigger of your gun -- you have to resist the urge to tap alongside your heartbeat. It is too rapid to keep up.

It’s not hard to find what you’re looking for. A singular door – you could almost imagine the sight of blood leaking from underneath, but there is nothing, not even a speck. You go to push open the door, and meet no resistance. 

The scene inside is not a gruesome murder attempt; it is not the horror movie that people said it would be. It is quiet inside, peaceful even. On the floor, the blood is not crimson but rather a muddy brown. Bandages are strewn across the floor, and a pistol sits idly in the far corner. And you are met by Lottie, sat upright in a stained hospital bed – staring straight at you.

She is not as recognisable as she once was – lesions have crawled up her left arm, her eyes are bloodshot and eyelids sagging. Her infected arm is twitching, joints almost dislocating as it reaches out towards you. 

//It wants to crawl.//

She grasps at her own arm, trying to hold it down…

//It wants to hunt.//

But instead of looking at you with hunger, or even anger, she just looks at you with fear.

And she looks so tired.

“Are you here to kill me?” Is it a question, or is it a command?

“No, I’m not.”

“Why not?”

The blood stains her neck, and her face, and her arms, and her clothes, and her legs, and her feet, and her torso, and her eyes, and her eyes, and her eyes, her eyes are red, she is bleeding, she is bleeding.

//It wants you to bleed.//

“What's... happening to you?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Her voice is hoarse.

“I think there’s something more to this. I don’t think you’re the monster people are saying you are.”

“It was never a question of whether I was a monster, Strangeness… I see that now.” The uncomfortable crunching of bones, her arm controlled by an invisible puppet. “It’s just how long I can hold off the monster inside of me.”

“No… we can figure this out. They just need to know. That… it’s different this time--”

“Will you make it go away?” 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m so tired, Strangeness.”

“I know you are.”

“I want to tell Mars I love them.”

//Is it going to take Martya?//

“You’re speaking as if you’re already dead.”

“That’s how everyone else sees me…” A glance to the bandages, to the gun.

You finally start to approach, your heart threatening to fall out of your chest at every twitch of Lottie’s half-dead body. 

“We won’t let you die yet. Let’s get you out of here.”

“It’s not safe.”

“Neither is leaving you here unsupervised.” You reach your hand out, trying to hide your trembling fingers. “It’ll be okay.”

The air grows tense between you, Lottie looking at you with longing – and yet she recoils from your touch. She looks as if she’s about to sob as she pushes down her convulsing arm. 

“I’m… I’m afraid of hurting you.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Does she believe you? Do you even believe it yourself?

Moments go by, the ticking of the clock growing louder as the quiet between the two of you grows stagnant. 

But then she takes your hand. The hand is soft and gentle.

Her other arm lies rigid, though you know it is a flood about to burst from its barriers. Sweat droplets are forming on Lottie's face as her body tenses with exertion – she leans against you for support.

“Thank you… Strangeness.”

She gives you a smile, through gritted teeth. 

You guide her to the door, holding her upright as she stumbles occasionally. You open the door, and as you glance up, you see Raindrop and a crowd of other civilians. The ones you were meant to enter with.

There’s a flash of light, a burst of sound – but that’s not what you notice first. Rather, it’s the feeling of warm liquid coating the side of your face. You reach up and touch your face, but all you see on your fingers is red – and as you look down to Lottie (if you could even call //it// that) you see a skull emptied onto the once pristine infirmary floor. 

A different voice. “//She// was going to kill you. What the fuck were you doing.”

The lights have gone out.

{[]}{{tag>writeup2 gm_rei complete}}