Microscopic Swarm

Rip and Tear / 30

⚠️CW/TW: Blood, Violence, Injury, Mania, Blood Lust, Manic Euphoria⚠️
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Springing forth, your legs carried you to meet Izzy in the middle, her muscled body glistening from the sparks. Your footsteps were light and agile, while hers were heavy and filled with power.

Before your bodies could collide, you skidded in between her spread legs, then grabbed the waistband of her pants as you continued your slide. Izzy toppled over onto the ground as you twisted your body from the floor, planting your feet on her arms to keep her pinned. Your hand reached down, gripping her hair with impossible strength as you tugged back with all your might.

A sickening squelch sounded from her head, and an excited scream left her lips as blood dripped down her forehead, glistening over the bridge of her nose, and landing in her mouth. It looked like you had opened a purse - her scalp ripping from her skull as your knuckles were white with pressure.

If anyone paid attention to the scene, they'd see the excited and downright manic smile that tore at your lips, exposing your teeth and gums as your eyes curled up from joy. What a rush, it was like a drug! The sounds, the smells - it was almost erotic as a laugh ripped from your throat, a laugh unlike yourself.

"Okay bitch, now you've got me excited!" Izzy laughed, using her godlike strength to push herself to a stand, completely forgetting your weight on her arms as you fell off her, landing on your back with an "Oomph!".

She looked down on you, like how a psychopath would look down at their next victim, then she grabbed at your throat in her vice-like grip.

Your smile was never threatened, in fact, a joyous laugh left you. This was so fun, so exhilarating! Tears of joy rose in your eyes as you couldn't stop smiling. Relief, finally! Sweet, sweet relief!

She hung you off the ground, her muscles tense as she started tightening her grip, intent on crushing your throat and hearing it crack. But instead, it wasn't your throat that cracked, it was her.

Your eyes met hers, your (e/c)s meeting her blues, as her fingers snapped back, curling around themselves like ribbon as a screech left her throat, now staring at her inverted fingers as you kept laughing, being unwillingly dropped to your feet.

You couldn't breath, this was all too exciting! Like being continuously tickled, it hurt to be this excited.

"How the fuck?!" She screamed, her pain coating her eyes in a curtain of fog, stopping her from seeing your fist flying into her nose, snapping it to the side of her face.

As her head snapped back, you kept laughing.

Your hand was sore, yet the soreness reminded you of having a massage. It hurts at first, but it unwinds the tenseness in your muscles.

Looking down at your fingers, you saw them popped from their sockets with a dark bruise surrounding them, the swelling already forming. It hurt, really fucking hurt, but it was so relieving.

Your hand found its way back to your side as you flexed your fingers, too busy staring down Izzy to care why you could move what was dislocated. "You deserve this" you breathed out, aware of every weak point she had, and the strongest areas on her body.

"Y/n!" You heard your name being screamed by a familiar voice, making your head whip around to face them.

In the moment your eyes met Jolyne's, your stand activated again in Izzy, sending her electrical currents to her brain.

You were sat in the lecture room, twirling your pen idly as you watched your professor yammer on about today's subject. Looking around the class, he began. "HCE, Hyper-Cerebral Electrosis, is a super rare physical imbalance where the circuits in the brain become overloaded by the body's own electricity. This causes the brain to-"

A scream tore through Izzy's throat as a pop resonated through the air. Blood, brain, bone - it splattered on your back like shrapnels, and on the concrete floor.

Horror flooded onto Jolyne's face as she stared past your focused face, looking at the missing head on Izzy's shoulders. Her head exploded, and judging by your intense stare, you did this.

You exploded someones head without even blinking, without even twitching.

Your thousand-yard stare penetrated her as she forced her eyes back to you. Sharp, dead, malicious...somehow absent eyes stared into her, waiting for a reaction, waiting for a reason to hate her. You were infected - the survival stand had taken you into its grasp, nurturing the violence hidden inside.

"Y/n" Jolyne began, her eyebrows furrowed with her serious nature and from her wounds, "We gotta focus, together. Look around".

And so you did. You looked around the area, noticing all the chaos had subsided, all that was left was the prisoners on the floor, all bloated and disfigured.

"...What the fuck?" You whispered, the sight sobering you as you looked back at Jolyne with the eyes she was familiar with.

Finally, you were back.

"Stay close to me" she whispered back, "And keep your guard up".

Tentatively, you shuffled over to her, and nervously took her hand as your tense body shook slightly, scared you would become like the freaks on the floor. Jolyne had no time to dwell on your change, since two men approached her.

One was shorter than the other, wrinkly and boney with horrendously long eyebrows. The other had a spiked metal helmet on, and what looked to be ancient robes? Like what a gladiator would wear.

"Wow, you are very surprising" the frail voice of the old man said, bending back his fingers and wrists unnaturally far, "When White Snake said he wanted four stand users to be in here, I thought he was going overboard. But watching you stand despite the gash in your side, and watching the rabid animal next to you, I understand now. You're so unpredictable - far too risky to only be facing one stand user".

"Have you tried physical therapy?" He continued, bending his fingers like he was wiggling them, "It's great for your health. It's always good to keep healthy habits". It was like he was taunting as he stepped forward, walking in an unusual pattern towards her.

"If you wanna play I'll gladly stay" Jolyne said, posing her arms in different places and pulling at her eyes, "I can do it American style, or what about French style? Japanese work? Or maybe Italian, Naples style? All around the world, theres a finger that says 'Fuck you'".

Holy shit Jolyne.