Work Text:
Breath in breath out breath out breath in breath out breath in breath out, inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale exhale exhale-
Its voice calls out to you, the thing that dragged to here, the thing that's the reason you are even still here and did not go to sleep in the soft snow no one knows how long ago, its mangled deep voice tries to give give give nonsense words and assurances that everything will pass, you wish for everything to pass, in fact, you cannot recall a time when you did not wish for people to come to pass, from when your feet hanged from a long wooden chair in a room surrounded by snow (but never feeling it in neither body nor spirit, you guessed that you were too focused on the rapture to realize your own fall from grace)
The reaper's worn gloves grabs your rib cage, feeling like it would snap them in any minute if it held on too tightly, you wonder why the son has not grabbed his shotgun and shot yourbrainyoureyesyourheartyoursoul out to feast on the bone marrow inside you, mosquitos that feast on feces and dog flesh, you are what you feast on and beings so slowly are not able to even begin to comprehend such a holy thing as love neither can you, but you never stopped thinking of yourself as any different from such lowly beings, that's still a fabrication isn't it? But how could a lowly being radiate such warmth, such boundless love, such mirthfulness, your subconscious thinks that you have been chosen as the lamb of a god
The holy father puts you down to your steel coffin, where you will be prepared for your final resting place, he brings from the flames Belial, smelling of metal and gunpowder, his weak voice reverberates from the walls, he grabs your hand so with such gentleness you could just vanish the fact of your approaching finale from your mind, but Belial brings you back as he starts to cut at your flesh, bile spews your mouth as pain fills your body, but his presence manages you calm you sooner or later
Belial continues to work on your flesh, his unsteady hands making a mess of your vessel, and soon enough you leave your earthly body
Charles Snippy wakes up alone in a metal table hours later, wrapped in old bandages and so sore in his chest and legs from bruises and bloody from 3 gunshots, as he unsteadily tries to get up he realizes he has The Captain's coat tossed over his shoulders.
