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tdr_backup2009-11-21 01:08 pm
bigredanhorny9.livejournal.com) wrote in tdr_backup2009-11-21 01:08 pm
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Monthly Torment: Week Four
~ The night is indeed darkest before the dawn, and so it is with disease. As the war that has been waged on their bodies reaches a terrifying peak, the pained, decaying, and mostly immobilized citizens of Hell see no end in sight.
Until, that is, it ever so slowly begins to creep upon them.
There is no telling just how long they have limped through the cyclic punishments of their Levels, barely about to keep standing. There is no telling how many Level escapees have been tracked down and captured by the demons keeping watch for them, unable to run and hide like they used to with their deadened limbs weighing them down. There is no telling what had been the source of all this and why it struck when it did. But day by day, just as what little hope the rare optimist has managed to keep fades away, so does the infection.
It is impossible to die here, after all everyone IS by default in the afterlife, but injury is never an enjoyable experience even if it is always eventually fixable. Clearly this is not to say that suffering has been extinguished - far from it. The disease seemed to stop all recovery however now the threat of their disease begins to improve as nerves start to spark back to life, bringing with them terrible pins and needles like their entire bodies have fallen asleep. It would be horrible if it were not the first time their flesh has felt anything close to life since the epidemic started taking it's toll. As days pass, torn and rotted arms and legs, fingers and toes, start the excruciatingly slow process of regrowing.
It may bring their other aches into sharper relief, but as terror fades, frostbitten noses and bleeding palms are a welcome sight after the twisted bundles of infection they had become. ~
Until, that is, it ever so slowly begins to creep upon them.
There is no telling just how long they have limped through the cyclic punishments of their Levels, barely about to keep standing. There is no telling how many Level escapees have been tracked down and captured by the demons keeping watch for them, unable to run and hide like they used to with their deadened limbs weighing them down. There is no telling what had been the source of all this and why it struck when it did. But day by day, just as what little hope the rare optimist has managed to keep fades away, so does the infection.
It is impossible to die here, after all everyone IS by default in the afterlife, but injury is never an enjoyable experience even if it is always eventually fixable. Clearly this is not to say that suffering has been extinguished - far from it. The disease seemed to stop all recovery however now the threat of their disease begins to improve as nerves start to spark back to life, bringing with them terrible pins and needles like their entire bodies have fallen asleep. It would be horrible if it were not the first time their flesh has felt anything close to life since the epidemic started taking it's toll. As days pass, torn and rotted arms and legs, fingers and toes, start the excruciatingly slow process of regrowing.
It may bring their other aches into sharper relief, but as terror fades, frostbitten noses and bleeding palms are a welcome sight after the twisted bundles of infection they had become. ~