Inktober but it's written stuffs

Day 15: Vials

It was silent, no sound of wind, no birds chirping, not even the sounds of crickets chirping either. Not just that, this place was blank, blank white. There was no sun or moon present, not even a sky. It just was a blank, white void.

The painter was sitting on the floor that happened to almost match his pasty white bones. He had black ink spread around on the ground in front of him. Not just that, on his hands too.

His eyelights were white and had no particular shape. He had his clothing on but it had been a long time since he felt like this. Days? Months? Years? No. It hadn't been that long, maybe just a few months but no way years.

Suddenly, there was a small tink sound. Something must have fallen nearby. He looked around before seeing something with a speck of color. He quickly got up and hurried to it.

He picked it up and looked at it. He widened his eyes as he recognized what this was. "Holy fuck, this actually is it."

It was a little glass vial with a pink serum in it.

He immediately popped the lid open and drank it all up. He grinned slightly as he felt it began working its magic on him. He licked the tops of his teeth. His eyelights flickering to colors and shapes.

He felt a rush of lust course through his body. He grinned a little wider as he dropped the glass vial, making a ting noise when it dropped. The glass cracked a little as it hit the blank, blinding white floor.

One after another, different vials dropped from the sky. He drank up each and every one, giving him a new sense of emotion with each drink. Something about these vials were different. He tasted slightly different, they gave him a feeling which felt more odd than normal.

He looked at his arms before flinching slightly as another thing dropped, it sounded heavier and larger. He went over and saw his good ol brush, Broomie. He picked it up and held it in his hands.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," he said, his tone having a cheery, happiness to it.

He surprised himself with how his voice sounded. He definitely wasn't his normal self now, not after drinking those vials.

He used his oversized brush to make a mirror and looked into it, looking at himself to see if there were any changes. Any at all.

He looked at the splotch of ink on his cheek, it looked different. It was black but it had a glistening color to it when you look at it from a certain angle. When you saw the glistening, it was rainbow colored.

"How odd," he muttered to himself. "I wonder why this is happening."

Normally the feelings he felt would have mellowed out by now, but they stayed. Maybe these vials gave him feelings that lasted ten times longer than they normally do.

A random thought popped into his head before he set Broomie down. He then slipped off of his shirt and looked at his tattooed ribs. He hummed as his tattooed marks did the same thing as the splotch of ink on his cheek did, glistening rainbow at a certain angle.

He then turned around and tried looking at his back as best as he could through the mirror. He then gasped as his sockets widened. His spine wasn't normal. Each one of his thoracic vertebrae were replaced with little clear, glass like vials. Each one holding different colors, just like the colors he drank up.

"Are..is..is this real?" He asked himself out of confusion. "Was I kidnapped and this is a sick joke Error is playing on me?"

He then shook his head before facing the mirror normally.

"No, no," he said. "He is scared of touch. Then who in the name of this freaking multiverse could have done this!"

No one knew except for one person. One single monster and he preferred to keep it that way, no one knowing except for himself, the one who can change the timelines of each multiverse with just the button in his hand.