Out of nowhere, a black hand exploded from her back.
Absentia froze, trembling. The shadowy limb whipped out, wrapping itself around the monster and locking it in place. She spun in confusion— Where had it come from? Why? Who? How?
The arm sprouted from her spine like an oil-slick root, glistening with a wet sheen, yet at the same time obscured in inky folds. It didn't look strong— more liquid than flesh— yet the pink tendrils of the creature thrashed against it, writhing in frustration, unable to tear free.
The mass of tentacles began to fight and devour the dark hand, its pink, grotesque exterior twisted and bent in all kinds of weird forms, swirling around in rage and hunger.
She blinked.
*Drip*
*Drip*
...
...
...
Robotically, her head hesitantly turned downwards, trying to process the information her body was telling.
'Eh...?'
A hole.
Lower left, just above the hip.
Red.
Blood spilled down her leg, painting her dress and pooling on the stone.
'It had skewered me.'
A tentacle, silently, somewhere between her breaths, had pierced her body.
Because of what happened in the dollhouse, she should've felt nothing—she hadn't felt pain in the dollhouse. She had gouged out her own eye, twisted her neck, and smashed her porcelain knuckles.
But now?
HURTS.
Scorching, white-hot agony radiated from her gut, tearing through her with vicious clarity.
"Ha...?"
She gasped.
Her breath caught.
Her brain reeled.
In an attack of terror and rage, she grabbed the tentacle with both hands and squeezed. It squelched in a slick and slimy sound. Her hand slid along the surface as the thing recoiled, then—
Smack.
Her head snapped back.
Her vision and hearing whited out.
Her brain began rattling and vibrating, filling the place with colorless static. The creature had slapped her with its tendril, cracking her skull like a tuning fork, yet even under the effect of such staggering haze, her hands still clung to the meat-stick by sheer rage.
"HIAAAAAA!"
Her fingers dug in, pressing harder and harder until her nails cracked.
*SHRED*
The sound of flesh being torn apart echoed as the purple blood splashed everywhere on her clothes, eyes and face.
*Hisssss*
Her skin boiled.
Her snow-pale shoulder sizzled, her dress melted into jagged threads, and her left eye bubbled.
ARGHHHHHHHHH!!"
The stench of necrotizing flesh was so overwhelming that if it wasn't because of her adrenaline-fueled mindset, she would have vomited her insides out.
She clutched her face.
Her vision blurred as black jelly-ink flooded her sight. The pain was immense, a fever pitch of harrowing pain that her body shouldn't even feel.
"N-NO!!!"
She began to sprint as fast as she could. Legs buckling and wobbling. Through the corridor, her grip upon reality began to slowly shatter, and before she realized she was in an even stranger place.
"THIS ISN'T WHERE I CAME FROM!!"
The hallways were wrong. All wrong. No marks, no arrows, no signs— none matched. Her head rotated everywhere, turning from side to side to its limit, trying to find anything that seemed like one of her signs.
Her left eye continued to feel like a hell, it constantly throbbed like an alarm.
"HURTS HURTS HURTS" Her teeth gritted so tightly they ached, "E-EXIT!!!"
Her instincts screamed.
The black hand reappeared, rising from her spine like a loyal ghost.
*WHIP!*
"N—"
The shadow had moved, positioning itself in front of the tentacles mid-air, parrying them with a snapping twist.
Absentia momentarily flinched.
The black hand, almost understanding the sensation its host felt, rushed forward against the perpetrator to shatter like a hammer.
*SLAM*
The tentacle flinched in pain from the impact. With this short window, Absentia could finally escape, but as she was about to run, a strange hot boiling sensation traveled across her.
"No..."
Her legs locked in place.
The black hand spun and twisted within its own axis, turning thicker with a jagged end like a drill of wrath.
"TURN THAT FUCKER INTO A RED MIST!"
The drill launched forward and burrowed into the creature's flesh, its elongated body began gnawing and screwing through skin, in a ravenous and unforgiving twisting bite.
Purple blood exploded across the room.
"Acidic!" She warned herself.
She dodged, narrowly avoiding the sprays as they scorched stone and air alike.
The walls hissed.
The creature spasmed, shuddering into a retreat, slinking back into whatever hell had spawned it with a long-gone, joyless smile.
"Huff... Puff... Huff..."
Exhausted, she turned to the hovering black hand.
Alive or up to a certain point aware, it replied to her emotions but not so much to her commands, behaving more like a foreign object than part of her.
Many questions filled her mind, "How..."
She reached for it with shaking hands.
"Ha..."
Her vision blurred again.
"Right..."
She was hemorrhaging, and her stomach felt like a riot of agony.
The hand of darkness gently pressed itself onto the wound, in a pitiful attempt to stop the bleeding.
"Right... Right.. I must find the dollhouse, there were toy organs... I'm just..." Her sluggy breathing became more laborious as she moved,
"Stitch myself up... back in the house... cookies... tea... Yes."
Her thoughts fought to stay as positive as possible, with the best mindset. Her lips curled into a bitter smile of determination, "I just need an arrow."
She leaned near the wall to grab balance, and continued to walk, hunting for the lipstick marks she left behind earlier.
...