Void-Of-Chaos
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𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚 𝐗 𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Being hurt mentally isn't a wound you can see it festers.
It's buried under laughter and names that bruise deeper than fists. They called them Piggy. A joke that never ended. Every whisper carved another piece away, until there was nothing left but the sound of it.
Something started watching then tall, faceless, patient. The air around them warped, thick with static and rot. The shadows twitched in corners, the screens went blank, and that humming in their ears wouldn't stop.
A pig. That's what they were.
No matter the mirror, no matter the light a snout, twitching ears, soft flesh, tail curled tight. A pig staring back. A fat, stupid, shameless pig and the taller thing behind them never blinked.
Only tilted its head as if admiring its newest creation.
Somewhere between the laughter and the static,
something inside started to squeal.
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