An Inanimate Insanity Darkfic.
// insects, body horror, gore, and general violence
Trophy has been scratching at himself a lot lately. It's become almost concerning, even. He's been showing signs of extreme lightheadedness and fainting, as well as a...
Everything was woozy. Woozy and fast. Trophy could barely sit upright anywhere for hours on end, his stomach and limbs feeling weak, something similar to being submerged in water. Everything was light, including his head; he couldn't make out what anybody was saying, and he surely couldn't talk back either. His vision was clouded with blurred out objects. Paper, OJ, Knife, Tissues, Suitcase... It seemed like a lot of people were around because of the event. His stomach growled violently, feeling as though he hadn't eaten in months; if that was even possible. Either way, he couldn't make out even a singular detail about anybody besides color and voice, and even those aspects were weird and confusing for him at the moment.
He couldn't feel much in regards to coming in contact with other objects or walls. The only thing he could really feel directly was the pressure around his body, like it was a huge struggle to even move his limbs around in the first place. Despite this, he could still feel very faint contact with other things; like the floor, for example. Occasionally, he could feel a small amount of discomfort on the paddings of his feet, struggling to keep his body upright, his back slumping down and his bones tingling inside of his skin as he tapped his toes against the floor aimlessly.
Confused and panicked tones began to fill the voices around him, the muffled repeated pleads of his name growing more intense and high-pitched the more he walked, forcing his body forward to avoid being dragged back down from the forceful weight of the water. His paws slowly and shakily went up to his face, his eyes staring down at them with a blank, drunken expression. He watched his paw pads slowly distort and change in color, the world around him doing the same. Browns became blues, yellows became reds, blacks became whites, until everything was out of place and nauseating to stare at.
This easily caused Trophy's absentminded adventure to come to an abrupt stop, as he watched the colors dance around and distort his vision with ease, his fur starting to stand on end as his breathing grew heavy, quick and unsteady, until he began to pant like a dog, drool slowly dripping down from his face because of this; he could feel his body growing lighter and more weak, until eventually it began to feel like every little crevice of his being was dancing with the waves of colors and sounds, his brain feeling like it was rotting away inside of his already hollowed out head.
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He could feel his lungs collapsing inside of his delicate body, his muscles aching to be let free, his bones trembling and his heart pounding in its cage. His daze slowly became one of overstimulation and panic as the colors started to flash and seize his eyes, more drool oozing out from his mouth like a flow from a waterfall. His body grew more in weight, feeling like his body was slowly crumbling and cracking under the pressure of a compression machine, until his head slowly and agonizingly shattered into millions of little pieces, his body going limp on the floor and blood pooling around his body, rapidly drowning out what was left of his soul.
This stimulation continued despite the overwhelming feeling of death, only ever worsening as did his intense migraine. His body was heavy yet weak at the same time, like weights dragging him down to the very core of Earth, begging for him to reunite with the end of the already collapsing world. Everything was a blur after that.
