#and explode that brother from the inside out while roaring and covered in gore and wretched triumph

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clan part 34! @scentedcandlecryptid @hoshisoul

Trigger warning!! PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR! Food horror, vomiting, bugs, blood, suicidal thoughts, gore,

He couldn't take much more of it. Any time he’d close his eyes, his dreams were haunted with nightmare images of snakes and vines reaching out at him with sharp hooks and fangs. He would be running while an invisible force forced him back the other way toward an endless drop, and he would fall, but he would always wake before he hit the ground. If there even was a ground.

Every time he would drink, the once clean water would turn to sludge in his mouth. Thick, suffocating, and bitter— impossible to swallow. He’d have to spit it out, and when he did, he’d find it normal and clear. He had water— he had so much water! But he couldn’t drink. He was so thirsty…

Donatello brought an apple to his mouth and bit it. It tasted okay. It tasted… well— like an apple. The juices relieved the dryness of his throat and for a minute he’d thought he’d actually be able to eat! Then he made the mistake of looking to the fruit. Decay seemed to spread throughout the treat, making it brown and practically melt in Donatello’s hand. He could feel the apple fall apart! He could feel the sensation of writhing, living maggots eating the thing! He gagged and coughed, spitting out his mouthful and tossing the apple as far away as he could. The moment it collided with a tree, the apple was normal, if a little bruised.

The evil laughed.

Was it the next day? Or had several days passed? Donatello knew there was light, but he also knew that he could never trust the light. That it might turn off again at a moment’s notice, leaving him in blackness that swallowed the moon and stars. He was so hungry he had to risk it. It was just a banana, surely he could eat a banana? His hand shook violently as he picked up the fruit and started to peel it. One peel, two peels, and the banana held firm. The third peel, and it turned black, falling to dust in his hand. Donatello sucked in a breath and gave a soft whimper. Then the banana was back again, whole and untouched.

He swallowed his fear and brought the fruit to his mouth to take a bite of it. It tasted okay, at first. But then it started to move, and when he opened his mouth, out came what must have been hundreds of flies. A whole swarm of them! What remained of the banana followed the same pattern. Donatello vomited.

The evil laughed.

It was dark again. Donatello held his bo staff tightly to his chest, so tightly it hurt. But he didn't care. It helped even if he had yet to figure out what its power was yet. He didn't risk going far from the camp; just far enough where hopefully the evil couldn’t watch him as he relieved himself.

There was a great boom. Donatello fell back, hugging his mystic bo tightly and giving a choked whine. The auditory horror had happened so often he wondered how he wasn’t used to it by now. Sounds like grenades exploding or a jet plane flying overhead or an air horn sounding—women screaming in the woods, the yell of wild animals, the roar of fire! Fire? That one was new—and it was eating his campground fast! It had already eaten away at his tent and was spreading to the rest of the campground.

Donatello scrambled to his feet, grabbing his bucket of melted snow and tossing it over the fire! Then the fire was gone. No burns, no embers, no ash. Just a drenched tent destroyed by the water damage.

The evil laughed.

This wasn’t right. This couldn’t have been right! This nightmare had to end soon— it had to have been two weeks already, right? If not longer! They should have been here by now! His brothers, Bishop! To take him away from this hellhole that was eating away at his very mind! From that laughter that plagued him night and day without end! He wanted it to stop!

Donatello looked at his weapon. More specifically, he looked at the bladed part. He brought a finger to touch the very tip. It was sharp. Sharp enough to prick his finger and bring forth the tiniest speck of blood. Then he looked down at his wrists and screamed as a waterfall of blood pooled from them! He hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t, he would never— he didn't! The blood was gone in between blinks, and the wounds gone too. And the evil laughed.

“Your brothers have forgotten you.” The voice taunted, and it was inside Donatello head. Donatello tried to force it out, hitting himself in the head until his mind spun, but the voice remained. “You’re been here for years, and you are never leaving.”

No. No, that wasn’t true! His brothers would come for him, his brothers would never forget about him. They would come, they could come, they would come…

“The...r...rift is… s-still… closed.” Donatello managed to stutter out, his voice weak from lack of use and terrified, “S….so y-ou’re still trapped…”

“How do you know?” The evil purred, “After the things you’ve seen, how do you know that this isn’t just another illusion…?”

“I-it’s not…” Donatello gasped. “It’s not…”

“How sure of it are you?”

Donatello couldn’t answer, and the evil laughed.

Another day of torture passed like a month. He felt filthy, and he wanted to wash himself. The trails changed day to day, and this was one of the lucky days that he was allowed to go down to the river. He dipped a washcloth into the water and started to use it to dab the grime off of his skin, and then quickly dried it with another cloth so the water wouldn’t freeze. At first, the water was cold, but cleansing. Then, after the third gentle swipe of the wet cloth, it all changed.

The swipe of the cloth started to slough off Donatello’s skin. He couldn’t feel it, but he could see it. Skin and fat and muscles being scrapped off of him and leaving him bare to the bone. He screamed and tossed the rag, not thinking before he used his hand to try and wipe off the remaining water. Where his hand touched, even more of him came off. The flesh on his hand— on his arm!

Donatello collapsed on the bank, hugging his plastron as it also fell apart with his touch. He was never a religious creature, but in that moment, he squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for this hell to end because he just wanted to go home.

“Why are you sad?”

Donatello opened his eyes. He looked down at himself, and the flesh was repaired. Then he looked up. His eyes met with a golden kirin staring down at him, slitted golden eyes soft with pity. The yokai looked like a centaur might, except his backside was more deer than horse, and more impossible shades of color. His tail was like a lion, long and tipped in a dark red prickle; fur of a similar shade, much longer than the gold of his pelt, was detailed over his elbow joins and his tail. His back was covered in blue and orange scales and his torso was almost human if not for the deer-like ears and animalistic face. On his head, surrounded by the dark red of his mane, was a curved branch-like horn.

The kirin tilted his head again. “Why are you sad? The Sea of Trees is a happy place.”

Donatello didn't care to stick around to hear anything else the yokai had to say— if it even was a yokai and not another illusion. He grabbed his rags and stomped back off down the trail quickly, slouched over and hugging himself to provide some sort of security. He got back to camp, and tried to get through another cold, sleepless night. His stomach gave an unsettled gurgle begging for sustenance that Donatello couldn’t provide.

The tent lit up a bright gold. Warm, gentle and safe. Donatello closed his eyes to enjoy it before his exhausted mind snapped him back to reality. He spun around, gripping his bo staff and ready to attack whatever vision the evil had planned for him.

The kirin was back, eyes just as soft and concerned as before and hands carrying a basket of berries. Donatello didn't lower his bo for a second, not even as the kirin put the berries down in front of him and slid them over with his front hoof.

“Don’t be sad.” The kirin said, “Eat. Your brothers will come soon.”

“I don’t want your food.” Donatello grumbled.

“It’s good.” The kirin insisted, “It is food he cannot touch. It is real.”

Donatello swung the bo at him when the kirin stepped closer. “Stay. Away.”

The kirin blinked slowly, and then gave the slightest laugh, “You should know I am telling the truth. You have the future right there in your hands.”

Donatello looked down at his weapon, and then up at the kirin. “What do you mean?”

The kirin didn't answer the question. “The evil is strong, but it can only lie. The rift is the truth, and the rift is still.”

The kirin left the berries and backed up. When his backside met the end of the tent, it phased out of reality, disappearing slowly as he backed through an invisible rift. Donatello watched the place the yokai had disappeared, waiting for some cruel punchline that never came. Then he looked at the berries, tantalizingly round and fresh, coated with dew drops. Just there, taunting him and his empty stomach until he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a handful of berries and immediately shoved them in his mouth, swallowing them quickly so he wouldn’t have to go through whatever torment the food would bring.

He opened his eyes. The berries were still there, still plump and beckoning. The berries tasted like berries. He took another handful and moved it around, trying to spot any bugs or flaws or mold—anything! But he found nothing, and so he took another mouthful, and another, until the berries were gone.

[riverofmemoriesft]

. Between the Lines . 190

The screaming that rang through the ruined streets of Crocus brought Mirajane to a halt. She'd been separated from her siblings, who she hoped were with one another. She saw a broken fountain, once beautiful and built with golden saber toothed tigers springing from its depths in honor of the guild that protected the city, a gift for the guild after everything that had happened with the reveal of magic.

Silently, Mirajane listened to the screams. Tears rose to her eyes; she heard the agony, the longing and the mourning and the utter pain that the owners possessed, and she couldn't help but hope that the owners were of another guild.

Her heart twisted. Lisanna! Elfman!

A scream filled her ears. Mirajane spun around to see someone shoot around a corner, chased by the monstrous creatures roaming the streets, and she pushed herself to run towards them rather than away.

Kinana! she recognized, hearing the roar of a dragon over their head. The booming of thunder and the snapping of lightning as it crashed down on the dragon brought her a little comfort. Laxus was nearby.

"Mira-" Kinana cried as she raced past her, spinning in her place to watch in horror as Mirajane used her magic, bringing forth a powerful form that would give her strength. Within seconds she was surrounded, and she screamed at Kinana to go.

Kinana gave a sob and fled.

Laxus hadn't intended to stumble across the terrified Kinana, but when he did, she clung to him. He was stunned, shocked that she was even running around instead of helping the other non-magic members of Fairy Tail and various other guilds. They were supposed to be protecting those in hiding.

"The hell are you doin' out here?" he demanded, catching her by the shoulders as the dragon he'd been fighting shook its head, trying to clear its eyes of pain.

She only shook her head. "It's Mira," she sobbed, pointing behind them. "It's - help her, please, there were so many-"

"Get out of here, I'll find her," he rumbled, an odd feeling in his chest. Laxus sent Kinana away and she sprinted down the empty road with a hand covering her mouth. Taking advantage of the dragon's blindness, Laxus jogged down the street, knowing it would follow him.

When he found Mirajane, he was horrified. Laxus Dreyar, who had never flinched at gore and the agony of others, merely pushed along and helped them, wanted to retch and run the other way. Because not even he had imagined that he'd see Mirajane as she was now.

She was very clearly dead. Her blue eyes stared blankly at him, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as the creatures tore into her body.

Rage like no other flooded into him and he gave a shout, turning on the dragon as lightning exploded in a massive and psychotic blast around him, slamming into the dragon with enough force to drive it to the ground.

"Juvia!" Meredy cried, dragging the water mage out of the way just in time. A blast struck the place she'd been standing in and Gray whipped around, eyes worried. When he saw that she was all right, he relaxed just a little and then looked to the creatures creeping towards them.

Ice gathered around his hands as he settled into a battle-ready stance. Lyon narrowed his dark eyes and copied him, birds appearing around them and fluttering their icy wings. Nervous, Meredy readied herself - and then gasped. "Ultear!" she screamed, darting off.

Juvia's head snapped around and caught sight of the very woman Meredy had named running down a street. Before Juvia could follow Meredy, they were cut off and she stared at the metallic monster before her with horror as it clicked its bloodied jaws. The dragon in the sky roared and dropped more of them.

"Natsu!" Juvia gasped suddenly, pointing into the sky as a blaze of light streaked from the sky and into Crocus. Gray swore under his breath as the dragon laughed and descended upon them, shedding neve rending scales that only added to the chaos.

"Juvia, look out," Gray suddenly cried, diving forward.

Time seemed to slow down for her.

One moment, she was looking at where the dragon stood, the next, he was there, tossing her aside as he stared in shock at a beam that had gone through his chest. Her eyes widened, filling with shock as another slammed into his shoulder and then a third into his leg, sending him to the ground.

It wasn't until one shot through his head and he hit the ground dead that Juvia screamed, Lyon's shriek cutting into her like a knife.

Throughout Crocus, various people cried and shrieked and screamed and wailed. Blood spilled and people lay still, their eyes still full of pain as they lay dead.

Sting and Rogue went right back to fighting their dragons, trying their best to protect Yukino's body as Laxus did the same for Mirajane, joined by her grieving siblings, who fended off the creatures that had killed her. Lyon screamed for someone to help them while Juvia cried hysterically over Gray, her fingers tangled in his blood-matted black hair, pleading with him to open his eyes. Jellal stumbled as a blow caught his throat, smacking a hand over the wound with a gasp, and Erza crumpled as excruciating pain raced down her body.

In an isolated place, Romeo sobbed, shouting for Macao to wake up as he was hauled away by Wakaba and a fierce Makarov. Bisca, who had returned to defend their home with Alzack, stared numbly at the rubble that had crushed her husband.

The future Levy stumbled through the destruction, an arm thrown over her shoulder as she helped her past self search for Gajeel, and the future Gajeel strode beside them, snarling whenever something came too close. Chelia stumbled speechlessly along behind them, nervous.

Natsu hit the ground, a sharp crack ringing out. He shouted in pain and then stared in shock at the wounds on his chest, delivered by the future Rogue's attack. Weakly, Natsu grappled at his chest, wheezing for Lucy as blood pooled beneath him. He remembered the agony the future Lucy had described coming with his death, and he wondered helplessly if they, too were destined to die.

Darkness bled in, and he tried to staunch the wounds. He could hear the future Rogue laughing above, triumph ringing out, and he closed his eyes, chest heaving.

Lucy, was his last thought before his chest moved no more.

The future Natsu suddenly gasped beside Lucy, clawing at his chest with a white face. "Natsu?" she demanded, her heart racing at the sight of the man who shared the same face as her Natsu in pain.

She had sent Loke back moments before and Hisui and Arcadios had run inside to gather various things that might help them in destroying the Gate, something they had deemed necessary for a reason they wouldn't share. Happy had been sent to help where he was needed and he'd promised her he'd go find Wendy and help her with the emerald-colored dragon.

"Dead," he gasped. "My past self is-"

"Dead?" a new voice mused. "I am surprised. Natsu did not seem to be the sort to die so easily. I thought him better than that."

Lucy's blood turned to ice, because she'd know that voice anywhere. They spun around, staring in shock at the man that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Power came off of him in waves and his hand rested lightly against one of the doors of the Gate, his red eyes glowing.

"Zeref?" she choked out. "What the hell are you-"

"Mm, time travel. It is always an interesting thought, don't you agree?" Zeref caressed the doors. "I was wondering...if just maybe... it would allow me to see someone again. Someone I haven't seen in quite some time. Someone I haven't seen since before the dragons were gone…"

"Don't," the future Natsu suddenly said, horror in his voice. "Don't you dare-"

"You know then?" He let his gaze slide towards the terrified man. "You know the truth of who I'm speaking of? Interesting. I'd like to know how you found out, but I doubt it will happen. My brother is an interesting person, Miss Heartfilia, is he not? Certainly you've read of him in Layla's diary. Would you like to meet him?"

He pushed the Gate open.