Inside the Comfy Cartel

Cool Down

Corpse POV

Everything was a blur. I was seeing Sykkuno and I wrapping up the mission and us helping Dream dispose of the hooded figure I gunned down. Streetlights were being snuffed as the morning light rolled in. I felt the need to hit the gunned down body with my bat. So I did. Neither Dream nor Sykkuno stopped me. I continued to just beat the cadaver. I was literally beating a dead horse.

Was this real?

The rage from murdering him had returned. I fell into a trance. I didn't say or do anything. I lost time. What time was it?

My stomach felt like it was a wax candle, dripping away under a hot pressure. I was burning! Burning inside and out. I looked at my stomach. My shirt stained red. I coughed. Was I going to throw up blood? Had I thrown up already? Why couldn't I move my body? No, I was moving. I was shaking. Fuck, how much pain was I really in? What was going on? I'm...I'm so...fucking sc—

My eyes snapped open and I gasped sharply. I swear could feel a nosebleed in the works. I was sweating hard, my throat was burning, my stomach feeling emptier, and...and where was I?

Though the structure was similar to that of my own apartment, it wasn't my living room. I was in reclining armchair, a gray cotton throw over blanket tucked over my lap. The space was less empty, furnished with a floral loveseat in front of me and another armchair to my right. The windows were curtained, but still left some natural lighting in to illuminate the room enough. The floors were swept well and the every counter in sight well dusted. One of the walls had a shoji room divider propped up in the corner next to a tabled microphone and laptop, very simple and clean. Every color in the room based in white, green, and brown.

From the corner of my eye, I could see another room with a table for two, a kitchen counter, and stove. On the table I could see a jar of incense burning. I sniffed the air. Lavender, no doubt about it.

I could also see something purple and gnarled next to the jar. It had one ear and a whited out eye and—wait, was that...my mask? I lifted my right hand up to feel my face. My heart skipped a beat. My face...the texture made me wince. The feeling of divots and crinkles amalgamating on my face. It really was off...it was always so appalling to me.

Feeling my face was just as painful as seeing it in the mirror. I hated it. It was his fucking fault. I could feel the strokes and pats on my skin slowly turn into scratching. I could see my black nails start to dig harder and a little faster. I was livid just thinking of the sight. I couldn't stand it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Whoa, calm down! Take it easy, Corpse!"

I stopped scratching and turned to see Sykkuno sweep in and get a look at me. He put his hand on my forehead. "Oh, good. Your temperature went down. You were really struggling for a bit there, but I guess the lavender really helped...I think."

"...Sykkuno." I sighed, blinking with surprise. "Where are...um...is this your place?"

He nodded with a nervous laugh. "I try. Haven't really been here a year yet, but I make do with what I have." He held out a white mug, still steaming and tea bag string dancing on the side.

I took the mug and took in the aroma. Chamomile and honey. Sykkuno nodded, I returned the gesture. I saw my pills on the coffee table in front of my chair. I popped a few and down them with the tea. As I drank, I practically invited the hot liquid burning my tongue. It let me know I was awake, alive. Despite the burning, the tea really tasted good, sweet. Flavor wasn't something I had the luxury to often either. I pinched the bridge of my nose. Nothing to be concerned about after all.

"How long was I out for?" I asked.

"Oh, I'd say about three hours or so. It's almost 8 AM. I actually thought you'd be sleeping longer."