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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ IT was a bright, cold afternoon—a stark contrast against the screams of a young woman racking the city. She bit down on a piece of stirrup leather, her face pale and sunken as though she'd already died. Slick hair stuck to her oily skin and curled around like springs in a mattress. Sweat trickled down her forehead, hot and beaded, licking the back of her neck until they'd roll under to soak the floor.
She gripped at the linen sheets below, her fingers white from the pressure. She pushed once, twice. She lost count.
With each push, she strained and grunted, her face twisted in pain. She was in pure agony, her backbones snapping, her ribcage cracked open like the skull of a mad dog. Hay delved into her skin, the tears streaming down her face. The torment was so intense she couldn't see or hear anything. It rippled through her like fire, vibrant red like the colour of blood, the devil's horns, and death itself.
For a minute, she felt all the pain in the universe. But when her son cried out for the first time, everything ceased. She could finally rest. It was as though the world's weight had lifted from her shoulders. Her eyes closed in peace, and she felt nothing at all.
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KILLER INSTINCT.
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© plutonruins 2023
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KILLER INSTINCT, THE LAST OF US.
Fanfiction⠀⠀ KILLER INSTINCT. ━━━━━━━ What does one do with life when they expected to be dead? → the last of us, original character. written by plutonruins © 2023 ...
