Blossoms of the Dark

CLXXVII Selene: Laugh

Trigger Warning:

- pain

- burns

- blood

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Death has spared me countless times since I became a villain.

I repaid her kindness by gifting her the souls of others.

Now if she would be so kind as to take mine.

I wish I were joking when I say I would love nothing more than to die right now. There's the pain I've endured since childhood, and then there's this. This unnameable, excruciating thing racking my body in waves. As though my bones snap into pieces, only to be reassembled again. My head demands to split into two, into four, into infinity. If someone were to attach probes to it, fireworks of colors and patterns would appear on the screen. That is how many neurons are signaling the same message to my brain.

Amongst all that pain, I barely feel a needle press into my neck. One second passes. Two seconds. Then ten. One whole minute later, and I feel myself go limp.

The agony ebbs.

All that is left is a physical, mental, and emotional ache. A reprieve. My eyes shut.

"Oh, thank goodness," I hear Mr. Compress say. I do not have the strength to respond. "Let's get you cleaned up."

His arms reach around my back and knees, lifting me in the air. He walks somewhere. Which direction, I do not know. I cannot care. Then he sets me down somewhere. I'm sitting, I realize distantly. My back touches some hard rock surface. No. Not a rock. My hair. Mr. Compress pulls me forward just a bit to undo the hair ties and bobby pins holding my hair up. All the matted blood had hardened it to stone.

A cold liquid crashes down on me. I shudder reflexively at the sensation before easing into it. Water, I notice, after I take a taste. Another waterfall pours down. It is a balm. I manage to find the strength to blearily open my eyes. Dried blood colors the water red before washing away.

A little more energy returns, and I look up at the source of water. A hand pump. Never thought I would see one of these in person. Mr. Compress lifts the lever up and down, and spouts of water come out with every motion. I open my mouth to drink the water. It tastes a little metallic, but it is better than nothing.

This goes on for some time. I cannot say how long. When there is no more water to be pumped, Mr. Compress returns to my side and inspects my injuries. I bet there are many. Though he is wearing his face mask, his grim silence confirms as much.

He removes my boots. Rather, what remains of my boots. Because along with my clothes, they melted in the pyre. The stench of burnt rubber and glue hits my nose. Mr. Compress tosses them aside and looks at my feet. They're badly burnt. Maybe it was the degree of burns, maybe it was the adrenaline, but I did not notice until now.

"You cannot walk like this," he remarks. "Not with scraps of fabric and rubber stuck to them. Damn, Selene! How are you even alive?" I'm asking myself the same question. Wish I knew the answer. Mr. Compress sighs, "We cannot leave them like this. Burns this severe are way too prone to infection. I need something to bandage them up. Thing is, I don't have anything like that." Then his gaze falls to my chest.

You dare take advantage of me!

I am about to use the dredges of my energy to kick him when he says, "Your camisole. It's still a little bloodstained, but it's better than any of the clothes on the dead bodies here. If you'll let me, I can tear it into strips and wrap your feet with it." He shrugs off his outer jacket and tosses it to me. "Use that to cover up."