[WARNING" Contains descriptions and illustrations of violence, unreality, death, and body horror. Viewer's discretion is advised.]
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After a party prank gone wrong, Book finds herself unable to sleep. Typically, she was used to having all-nighters...
"Are you serious, Pencil?" Book felt her temper flare up. "In what world would that strike you as a good idea?" Pencil shook her head, offended.
"Hey, hey, no need to get all pissy! It's not enough to kill you,"
"Pencil, I can feel my—" Book bit her tongue, keeping her temper from letting loose a swear. "I can feel my muscles moving, you...you prick," Book hissed between her teeth. Pencil only rolled her eyes. Her dismissive attitude was starting to wear on Book. Her lower eyelid twitched.
"You'll be fine! You'll only be pulling an all-nighter like you used to. I swear, you're always so prissy and stuffy, how do..." Pencil's mouth continued to move, but Book couldn't hear her. All she could hear was a piercing ringing in her ears. All she could focus on was Pencil. Everything else was muffled or a blur of color. Pencil continued to blabber, and although Book couldn't hear her, she felt her pulse race. Her fists balled, knuckles turning white from the tight clenching of her fingers.
That stupid...
Book's mind pulsed in her skull, her jaw clenching. Pencil just kept talking and talking, her mouth running. Memories of everything Pencil had ever said began flooding Book's head. On top of everything, she dared to drug her? Everything became drowned out by Pencil's nagging voice.
They're just "alternates", they don't get to hang with us.
Don't you think you eat enough? It's like you never shut your mouth. You're either nagging or eating sometimes...
Are you serious? Go back for them? Do they look like Freesmarters? No? Didn't think so. Now hush.
Do you ever shut up?
Do you ever shut up?
Shut up. Book's own inner monologue rattled in her head. All Pencil ever did to her was dismiss, dismiss, dismiss.
Shut up. She bared her teeth, trembling. Her heart raced. Can't ever take the blame for anything you do, can you?
Shut up! Her face flushed, her pupils trembled. She stared right into Pencil's eyes. How about a taste of her own medicine?
Shut up! Pencil's mouth finally stopped moving, and she stared back at Book as she fumed. She deserves it. She deserves every bit of it.
"Uh, Boo—"
"SHUT. UP!" A shrill shriek filled the air.
CRACK!
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Pencil was interrupted by Book's fist swinging into her face. The sound of splintering wood filled the air, a sickening crack splitting the air. The music, the conversations, everything suddenly stopped as Pencil stumbled back. She held her nose, a deep crack traveling up her forehead and down to her lips. Book stood with her fist crossed over her heaving chest, and her face was flushed a bright red. Her fist was embedded with splinters, but she continued to stare daggers into Pencil, her twitching pupils now only pinpricks. All was silent save for Book's heaving breaths.
