Snippet #1816931

One by one each supernatural freak began to remove themselves from the rusted shack that they had been forced to ride. She had been silent the entire drive her thoughts playing repeats of Buu’s reaction to her. This wasn’t the first time she had this issue – the issue of people avoiding her or attacking her without explanation – nothing new – nothing bothersome. Gazelle seemed to move distinctively sluggish - long drawn out movements had lead her in the right direction.


The once seductive face now seemed hard as stone and cold as a raging blizzard, dark, distraught, providing truth in the evil that could be felt from her very aura. One foot fall lead to the next, causing the rusted bus stairs to squeal in protest under her weight. She paid no mind to where the others went or if any conversations had been passed back and forth. Her grip tightened on the railing as if she needed the support while carrying her body up the steps. Small shards of clothing hung from Gazelle's lithe frame, drifting shapelessly from side to side with each motion of limbs, the lack of clothes had left her to basically walk through the house nude once again – nothing new – nothing bothersome.


Her skin wasn’t as filthy as the others – in fact it seemed just small chunks of her flesh, her long tangled hair, and up to her ankles had been coated in the vile mess the creature created. Gazelle was able to fully regenerate the hide that was skinned from her body thanks to Henry's generous give of energy – but as the flow between the two of them ended she instantly felt weak once again and it was seen in each physical maneuver.


From her neck still hung the key to her room, she lazily gripped it and bent her body at the hips, attempting to stick the foreign piece of metal in the hole and turn. The deadbolt rattled and shook against the wooden frame, she twisted the knob and nothing - twisted it again - and nothing.





The door shattered beneath her fists, splintering into the mirrored room – with a heavy roll of her eyes Gazelle proceed towards the restroom, turned the water on - which allowed for the scorching fluid to spew from the pull down shower head, the room filled with steam – a thick steam - a steam which made it hard to breath.


While the hot liquid drizzled down her frame Gazelle began to notice bulky bubbles beneath her skin – they burned, ached, stung and were seemingly growing in size - rapidly growing in size. Once the grime had been rinsed and thoroughly washed from her figure she quickly removed herself from the restroom, her hand tracing over the golf ball sized lumps wincing with each trailing fingertip.


On her bed laid a note that she would later see to read as followed.



With the rapid growth of her flesh the disembodied fluids of the monstrosity they fought had become trapped beneath her skin - with her lack of energy - and pride Gazelle had used what she had - what Henry lent her - to rebuild her physic - that was a mistake - hind sight is 20/20. Even if her body managed to fight off the infection there was no way to drain it other than manually. "Hell fire ant's bullshit all over again" Gazelle groaned to herself as she made her way across the room.


Light footsteps lead her to the closet where a long delicate hand reached for a short hemmed silk house robe. She tightened the crimson rope about her narrow waist and with a huff of air and a hunched back she made her way towards the broken door. The small wooden slivers scattered across the floor as her feet dragged behind. The swollen lumps of flesh seemed to throb with a fury only Gazelle could relate to the leading up to her first death. The searing heat beneath her skin began to drive her into an irritated frenzy whilst shuffling towards the kitchen.


Beams of sun shone through the open skylights, glistening off the granite counter tops, the sound of slamming drawers echoed about the empty room, clanging of metal on metal, then silence. The short trek from her room to the kitchen seemed a tiring length for such weak legs to carry.


A light sheen of beaded sweat gathered upon her forehead, Gazelle's face a ghastly white and her eyes had no longer been their usual pitch black - now the scleras were sheeted white and the irises illuminated a deep sea blue.


Once Gazelle finally reached the front room her abnormal eyes drifted from Evans to Jack and without a word of greeting the sickly looking woman dropped to her rounded ass before the fire place. The flames licked and whipped about the large containing - the heat reached out to kiss her already over internally heated body. The small beads of sweat seemed to build up faster, the sheen becoming thicker - dripping down the bends of her face - slowly trickling down the thin lines of her neck.


In her hands the unstable looking female held two knifes - nothing fancy - just regular toothed steak knives, and the boils beneath her skin were anything but unnoticeable. With wary actions Gazelle placed one of the blades on the hot coals beneath the crispy logs, the other was held tightly in her grip.

If eyes had fallen upon her she seemed to not care, if words were spoken she had become a mute.

She seemed to study her body, eyes attentive to her legs, pinned to the nearly tennis ball sized boil on her high thigh. It was then a startling pain developed beneath her right eye, she could see the blurred lump blocking part of her vision but hadn't taken much care until this moment.


Without a sign of warning Gazelle raised the jagged blade to the inflamed area and tore it across the bulging flesh. Black ichor mixed with deep red blood began to stream from the incision, dripping down her high cheek bone in a hurry. The face of which it fell from kept perfectly still, not a flinch of pain, not a sign of remorse. As the deep fluid streamed a new yellow tinged white puss bubbled and oozed from the gaping wound. It fizzled and popped before it slid down the same path, mixing with the previous fluid - a foul odor began to emanate lightly tainting the surrounding area which she sat.


With her free hand Gazelle reached for the hot red knife which laid beneath the fire, leisurely movements brought the metal to the pussing carve. She pressed the flat side to her skin, sealing off the damage - it sizzled and hissed as it cooked - leaving a nasty long burn across the socket of her eye. "One down" She mumbled under her breath as she placed the second blade back into the coals.


Knowing this would be a rather long process and she simply didn't even have enough will power to sit up right on her own Gazelle slide to a more comfortable position, resting her back along the frame of fire. Tired, lifeless looking means of sight glanced about the room once again, before her hand went to slash at the boil which ballooned high up her thigh.