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literaryvein-reblogs · 5 months ago

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Writing Notes: Stages of Decomposition

The decomposition process occurs in several stages following death:

Pallor mortis

Algor mortis

Rigor mortis

Cadaveric spasm

Lividity

Putrefaction

Decomposition

Skeletonization

PALLOR MORTIS

The first stage of death.

Occurs once blood stops circulating in the body.

The cessation of an oxygenated blood flow to the capillaries beneath the skin causes the deceased to pale in appearance.

In non-Caucasians, the pallor may appear to develop an unusual hue; the skin will lose any natural lustre and appears more waxen.

Occurs quite quickly, within about 10 minutes after death.

ALGOR MORTIS

The cooling of the body after death.

The cooling process will be influenced by many factors, including the deceased’s clothing, or whether they are covered with bed linen such as blankets or duvets.

The body will typically cool to the ambient room temperature, but this alters if there is heating in the room or if there is a constant draught cooling the body.

RIGOR MORTIS

Can occur between 2 and 6 hours after death.

Factors including temperature can greatly affect this.

Caused by the muscles partially contracting, and the lack of aerobic respiration means that the muscles cannot relax from the contraction, leaving them tense, subsequently resulting in the stiffening we associate with rigor mortis.

This stage typically begins in the head, starting with the eyes, mouth, jaw and neck, and progresses right through the body.

The process is concluded approximately 12 hours after death (although, again, certain variables may occur) and lasts between 24 and 72 hours depending on circumstances.

Contrary to popular belief, rigor mortis is not a permanent state and is in fact reversed, with the muscles relaxing in the same order in which they initially stiffened.

The reversing process also takes approximately 12 hours, when the body returns to its un-contracted state.

It is possible to ‘break’ rigor mortis by manipulating and flexing the limbs. This is usually done by undertakers, pathologists or crime scene investigators who are attempting to examine or move a body – or by a murderer trying to hide their victim in the closet or the boot of a car.

CADAVERIC SPASM

A phenomenon that can be misinterpreted as rigor mortis.

The instantaneous stiffening of the body (most commonly the hands) following a traumatic death.

Unlike rigor mortis, the stiffening of the affected limb is permanent and is not reversed, causing the deceased to maintain the rigidity until such time as putrefaction causes breakdown of the particular muscle group.

Examples:

The deceased following an air crash were later discovered still clutching their seatbelts or arm rests in a final, desperate act of survival.

In a drowning case, the victim was discovered with grass from the riverbank still grasped in their hand.

Perhaps the most famous case of cadaveric spasm involves the rock band Nirvana’s lead singer, Kurt Cobain. Cobain reportedly committed suicide in April 1994. His body was discovered a few days after his death with a shotgun wound to the head, and tests revealed he had large traces of heroin in his system. He was reportedly discovered still clutching the gun in his left hand, due to cadaveric spasm. However, a great deal of controversy surrounds the veracity of this latter assumption, and indeed the cause of his death, with many people insisting and attempting to prove that he died as the result of foul play rather than suicide.

LIVIDITY

Also known as livor mortis, hypostasis, or suggillation.

Once blood can no longer circulate, it will gravitate towards the lowest point of the body.

Example: A supine body will display pinkish/purple patches of discoloration where the blood has settled in the back and along the thighs.

Occurs about 30 minutes after death, but will not necessarily be noticeable until at least 2 hours afterwards as the pooling process intensifies and becomes visible, finally peaking up to between 8 and 12 hours later.

Once it is complete, the lividity process cannot be reversed.

Therefore a body discovered lying on its side, but with staining evident in the back and shoulders, must have been moved at some point from what would have been a supine position at the time of death.

It is worth noting that if the body has had contact with the floor, a wall or other solid surface, lividity would not occur at the points of contact as the pressure would not allow the blood to seep through the capillaries and pool. The specific area of pressure will be the same colour as the rest of the body and a pattern of contact may well be evident.

PUTREFACTION

Derives from the Latin putrefacere, meaning ‘to make rotten’.

The body becomes rotten through the process known as autolysis, which is the liquefaction of bodily tissue and organs and the breakdown of proteins within the body due to the increased presence of bacteria.

The first visible sign is the discoloration of the skin in the area of the abdomen.

Bacteria released from the intestine cause the body to become bloated with a mixture of gases; over time these will leak out, and the smell will intensify to unbearable proportions.

Typically, this will attract flies that will lay eggs, which develop into maggots.

Bloating is most evident in the stomach area, genitals and face, which can become unrecognizable as the tongue and eyes are forced to protrude due to the pressure of the build-up of gases in the body.

At this stage, the body will also begin to lose hair.

The organs typically decompose in a particular order: starting with the stomach, followed by the intestines, heart, liver, brain, lungs, kidney, bladder and uterus/prostate.

Once all the gases have escaped the skin begins to turn black: this stage is called ‘black putrefaction’.

As with all the other stages of death so far, the rate of putrefaction depends on temperature and location. A body exposed to the air above ground will decompose more quickly than a body left in water or buried below ground.

During putrefaction, blistering of the skin and fermentation can also occur:

Fermentation - a type of mould that will grow on the surface of the body. This mould appears white, and is slimy or furry in texture. It also releases a very strong, unpleasant, cheesy smell.

As the putrefaction process comes to an end, fly and maggot activity will become less, which leads to the next stage.

DECOMPOSITION

The body is an organic substance comprising organisms that can be broken down by chemical decomposition.

If the body is outside, any remains that have not been scavenged or consumed by maggots will liquefy and seep into the surrounding soil.

Thus when the body decomposes it is effectively recycled and returned to nature.

SKELETONIZATION

The final stage of death is known as ‘dry decay’, when the cadaver has all but dried out: the soft tissue has all gone and only the skeleton remains.

If the cadaver is outside, not only is it exposed to the elements but it also becomes food for scavengers such as rats, crows or foxes.

As the remains are scavenged, the body parts become dispersed so it is not unusual to find skeletal remains some distance from where the body lay at the point of death.

The way in which skeletal remains are scattered in such cases is of interest to archaeologists, and is referred to as taphonomy.

Where a body has lain undiscovered at home for a period of time it has also been known for family pets, typically dogs, to feed on the body. The natural instinct of a pet is to attempt to arouse the deceased by licking them, but once it gets hungry, its survival instinct will take over and it will consider the body as little more than carrion: it will act with the same natural instinct as a scavenger in the wild, which will feed on any corpse, be it animal or human, if it is starving.

Obviously the number of pets, the body mass of the deceased and the time lapse before the body is discovered will influence to what extent it has been devoured.

For further research on the stages of decomposition and the factors that affect it, look up body farms. These are medical facilities where bodies are donated for research purposes so scientists can specifically observe the decomposition process. However, be aware that some of the images are quite graphic.

Source ⚜ More: References ⚜ Autopsy ⚜ Pain & Violence ⚜ Injuries Bereavement ⚜ Death & Sacrifice ⚜ Cheating Death ⚜ Death Conceptions

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thecranberriesslut · 30 days ago

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Cabin no. 5

Summary: You're the new recruit for task force 141, you end up having to share your cabin with your superior officer Ghost, who doesn't quite believe that you're up for this job. The tension in this particular cabin could be cut through with a knife.

Pairing: Simon!Ghost!Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Power imbalance, Restraining, Profanity, Mean Ghost, Possibly Slightly Misogynistic Ghost, Degradation, Using force, Eventual smut, Dirty themes, Sort of Dark Ghost

Wc: 2,1k

Notes: Hey sluts, if you've missed my writing (although I'm sure I'm not that popular) here you go, this is a rare treat on account of I have finals soon and I'm just sososo busy, but i just had to write this... Anywayss enjoy, tell me what you think please, read at your own risk, blablabla. Also did not proof read this and wrote this in 2 hours without breaks, do not care if there are grammar errors.

Your old, worn-down boots scraped the slightly frozen terrain as you walked to cabin number 5—at least, that's what it said on the key they gave you when you arrived—you could almost feel the sharp rocks through your boots. You had gotten them at the beginning of your military training from your father; he said they'd last you a lifetime—maybe your know-it-all military captain father didn't know everything—but now they were one rough combat practice away from falling to pieces, as were your morals, unbeknownst to you.

Task Force 141, one of the most highly respected special operation units there is, and you—partially due to your father's influence—knew everything there was to know about this team. You had sent in your application only weeks after you finished extensive military training under your father. You had never expected to hear back from them, partially because you found it hard to believe that nepotism would have any influence in who was accepted into military task forces. But here you were, standing outside the cabin assigned to you by some apathetic-looking man at the main building, freezing your ass off.

The cabin was a small wooden box, but the light inside drew you in like a moth to a flame. You tried to calm your nerves by squeezing your fists very tight and letting go, but it did nothing for your racing heart and tight chest. You were told that you would be sharing a cabin with one of your commanding officers due to low funding for accommodation between missions. Also, the fact that you were the first female member of the 141 led you to the intellectual conclusion that this person would be a man. As a slashing gust of wind found the exact spot in your jacket that was ripped and penetrated your bones like an ice pick, you decided to suck it up and get inside that cabin.

You opened the door silently, hoping that your bunkmate would be asleep by now. But much to your demise, there, on the ratty old bunk, sat a big, hooded man, with no other part of him uncovered but his big, dark eyes. The light illuminated the dark forest path from where you came, and you could feel the wind blowing in stray snowflakes before you shut the door quickly behind you. This man on the bed—he just stared at you. He didn't move an inch, he didn't say anything; there he sat with an unreadable look in his cold eyes and his forearms tensed up like you were some kind of threat.

When the realization hit you, you almost cursed yourself out. In your surprise upon seeing the man, you had forgotten to salute your superior. You lifted your left hand quickly and firmly above your eyebrow as you set your bag down.

“Sir.”

“At ease,” he muttered with a dismissive, low voice muffled by his balaclava.

You put your hand down and let out the breath you had held unconsciously. After gathering yourself, you decided that you wouldn't be hated by your bunkmate. It would be a month before the next mission in Russia, and you weren't looking to share only awkward silence and deathly stares with the person in your room every single night until then. You forced your lips into a smile as you made your way to him, your slender arm extended in front of you. He stood up from his bunk, and your eyes followed him until your neck was physically unable to move any further back.

Jesus, fuck, this man was tall.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and kept your hand extended out for him. He took your hand in his and returned your handshake with a firm grip, his hand swallowing yours with ease.

“It's great to meet you. Heard so much about the 141,” you told him with sincerity. You wouldn't want to call yourself a fan of a military operational group, but—you were a fan.

“From your father,” he said dismissively. It wasn't a question; he knew that your father was a highly respected captain. He knew that if it wasn't for him, the 141 would have remained without its own nepo baby. Your eyebrows furrowed at his tone, but you knew better than to talk back to a superior officer, especially in your position.

“Yes, from my father,” you repeated. If he was going to try to insult you, you would just pretend not to realize it. You waited for him to pull away from the handshake, but his grip remained firm.

“You're mostly a sniper, no?” he assumed.

You could feel the anger rise to your cheeks. All your life, you had been dismissed as a soldier because of your gender, but on your first day in the 141, from your superior? God, you wanted to kick him in the nuts... instead, you smiled.

“I have the required training for a standard field operative.” You forced your voice to come out as professional and contained, but inside, you were screaming.

“Yeah, I'm sure your father trained you well. Be completely honest with me right now, officer—do you not realize the sheer size difference between you and everyone else on this team?” he asked as he let go of your hand.

You wanted to be angry at him for inequality, discrimination—anything—but you weren't stupid. Of course, you were smaller than them; it's biology. But what most men lack is reflexes, grace in their movements, swiftness… and that's exactly what you bring to the table.

“I understand your concerns, sir. But I assure you that I have the required skills. You do know that not all power comes from size.”

You could swear you saw a smirk under that balaclava.

“Well, we got a month to test that out, smartass, and I'm not making it easy for you,” he said before turning his back to you and laying down on his bunk. The bunk let out a big creak as his body weight lowered onto it, and you were left wondering what would ever come of you on this team.

You unpacked your stuff silently as he lay there. You couldn't tell if he was asleep or not—if he was, he was just as silent as he was awake.

“Uhm, sorry, where are the shower rooms?” you asked after you got done unpacking, your voice a mere whisper, although you doubted that a Task Force lieutenant would be very hard to wake up.

He groaned slightly and shifted in his bunk.

“Three cabins down. Be quiet when you get back.”

You said nothing as you made your way out of the door, almost dropping your shampoo bottle but catching it just in time.

The showers were, expectedly, old, damp, possibly covered in mold. The tiles were a seasick shade of green, and the overhead lights kept flickering like a scene from a horror movie. You sighed a breath of relief when you saw the shower stalls—at least you wouldn't have to be naked in front of the Task Force that you borderline idolized.

You turned the nozzle, and to your surprise, the water was instantly hot. The second the steaming water hit your tense shoulders, you let out a sigh. The water washed away your entire day of traveling to base in a cramped train, walking outside with your shitty boots, and that whole debacle with your lieutenant—whose name, you just realized, you didn’t catch. The shower walls echoed with dripping water and your quiet hums as you imagined how amazing it would be to get into bed and just go to sleep.

After your shower and getting dressed in the damp shower corridor—your clothes sticking to your skin like shorts on a hot summer day—you were walking back to your cabin when you felt like you were being watched. You looked around, but all the windows in the surrounding cabins were dark. Everyone was already asleep. You looked ahead into your own cabin, and it too just stood there, dark, quiet.

You knew it was stupid, but still, you picked up your pace to get inside quicker.

When you opened the door, your breath hitched in your throat. The bunk next to yours was empty… before you had time to think, the door to your cabin flew shut, and you felt a big arm come around your neck from the back, catching you in a chokehold.

You drew air into your lungs to scream, but before you could, a hand came over your mouth. You trashed in the tight hold the best you could, stomping on his feet and trying to use your hands to pry his arm away from you, but without result. You felt his face behind your ear, his breath causing goosebumps on the right side of your body, the goosebumps weren't the only thing you felt, because the heat in your body, and the damp spot that begun to form in your freshly changed panties, was undeniable.

“Where's your extensive training now, officer?” It was your lieutenant, of course it was him, how didn't you realize that this was one of his tests… which, you were failing miserably. You tried to explain yourself under his hand, but he moved it to your chin and pulled your head back against his shoulder, you winced at the roughness.

“Shut up and listen to me.” He said, his voice rough like gravel. You nodded your head the best you could in his grip and swallowed your fear.

“You should be able to get out of this, you think something like this couldn't happen out on missions?” He continued, to you, it felt like taunting.

“Mhmm.” You hummed a silent agreement.

“You're jeopardizing my men's safety by not being able to pull your weight in this team.”

“I could fight you, Sir, I just don't want to hurt you.” You tried to sound convincing, but the truth is that he left you exhausted, unalert, and completely by surprise. Your voice came out as a shaky mess, and at this point, no matter how fucked up it might be, you weren't sure you wanted to get out.

“Aw, how sweet, you don't want to hurt your superior officer, but tell me, do they give a fuck about rank in the middle of a battlefield somewhere in assfuck Russia?” His voice started out gentle, but towards the end he was practically yelling. You were used to this, you were a soldier after all, but you were so tired, and he was suddenly, so very scary, also the pit in your stomach wasn't helping, it was making you weak. You tried to claw at his arm once more, but you genuinely didn't want to hurt him and potentially get kicked out.

“You're weak, weak, and soft… and in this line of work, weak and soft gets you killed.” He drew out the words to maximize their hurtfulness, but you weren't hurt, you were turned on.

God, how fucked up is it to be turned on by this? You tried to rationalize your feelings with the forced abstinence that came with a busy military schedule, but you still felt like a gross pervert, until you felt something hard against your back. Your eyes widened in shock as your superior officer's undeniably hard dick pressed against your back unapologetically.

“Maybe I don't want out.” You said with a growing sense of confidence. You could feel his hand shift from your jaw to your neck as he squeezed, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to let you know that he could make it hurt if he so pleased.

“What did you say to me?” He asked with, what sounded like gritted teeth. After the warning squeeze, he let you out of his hold, you stumbled forward and regained your balance as you turned to face him. After a couple of coughs, you managed to say.

“Thanks, pleasure.” You said sarcastically, although your voice was hoarse and the dried tears on your face evident. His face remained stone-cold as he scanned your body.

“Don't think I can't tell when a soldier is trying to flirt with their CO.” He said casually, but with a dangerous edge to his tone.

“I would never.” You shot back.

“Good, 'cause if you tried to flirt with me, I'd have to report you for sexual harassment… or throw you down on the bed and make you regret your smart fucking mouth.” He said, so casually that it gave you an involuntary shiver. He looked at you once more with his expressionless eyes before making his way to his bunk once again, before he sat down, he turned to you.

“It's Ghost, by the way.”

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