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the-magpie-archives · 1 year

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MAG 6 - 'Squirm' - Speculations on parasitic infection.

This statement has many interesting aspects, but one that catches my attention is the subtle details of just how Prentiss's parasites seem to infect.

Harriet says she felt like she was stabbed, but doesn't mention worms or obvious rot on Prentiss, which would have been noticeable even in a moment of shock. This, and the fact that she wasn't wounded implies that the spreading of the sickness is not only caused by the worms.

From their description, Prentiss's worms are more like larvae than your standard worm, and the thing about larvae is that the eggs they emerge from are small, delicate. Anyone that's dealt with maggots knows that you can't just get rid of the maggots, you need to destroy the eggs too, but this brings me to another point.

Because of how delicate the eggs of a fly are, its common for them to lay them on things, and even in things; this is sometimes called flystrike. When I was a child I had a bright green pet caterpillar, I kept him in a jar and fed him leaves, and was so excited for him to turn into a butterfly! He never did though, instead I watched him torn in half from the inside out as fly larvae crawled from his corpse. If a fly laying its eggs under the skin of a caterpillar could do that, imagine what a human could do to another with this mutated, powerful, fear-driven parasite.

Harriet's eventual demise wasn't all that different from that of my pet, but as all things are with humans, it was undeniably messier. This dramatic end also puts me in mind of Ohiocordyceps unilateralis, more commonly known as the zombie ant fungus. After its host has served its purpose it very dramatically blooms, spreading the infection further to keep its species alive.

The parasite being spread by intercourse implies that either extended physical contact or transfer of bodily fluid can also cause infection. To me it makes more sense that it's fluids, as I think Timothy Hodge would have noticed anything physical, he seemed to be quite perceptive. The parasite being spread by fluids is interesting, as that could mean it has more fungus-like properties and spreads it's spores through the bloodstream, thereby affecting everything else.

This would mean that the methods of infection are: transfer of bodily fluid, flystrike, and the traditional worm burrowing. Correlating it as best I can, it seems to me that the worms exist as both parasite and fungus- something obviously not possible in reality, but definitely pleasing to the otherworldly fear entity of rot and filth!

Prentiss, as the source of it all, seems to have the ability to plant the eggs, which in turn can grow the worms. Whilst a host grows these perhaps the spores inside of them can spread others that they become physical with. I like to think that then the spores could grow and change into the worms, which in turn can infest others, leaving spores to create even more, creating the perfect flesh hive.

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worm-corpse · 5 days

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not gonna lie, if I ever left him or threaten to leave him, I give him full permission to kill me and keep me in his bathtub, with the exception that if he kills himself, I want his corpse next to mine, I want him to write in his note how awful she was and how he'd rather keep me forever to replace her, how she wasn't even worth killing, how I make a prettier corpse

I want our bodies to hug each other in the tub, I want him to caress my dead body and kiss it, even whisper how much he loved me before he takes the gun on himself and slumps over on top of my corpse, or better yet he purposefully overdoses and dies while holding my cold rigid corpse, the cops finding our cadavers intertwined with each other and stuck due to rigor mortis

even in death, we are forever bonded in morbid infatuation.

#praying mantis (obsessive thoughts)#book moth♥#my moth ♥️#tw yandere #male yandere #yandere #tw: death #tw: sui mention #morbid maggot (intrusive thoughts)#lurking leech (manic moments)#ouchies

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woodworkzz · 8 months

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Ship: IceHell padlock

Prompt word: grief

(hey, do you guys wanna see something sad?)

Warnings: gore, death, hallucinations, suicide. Also if you're icky about maggots they're mentioned once so maybe sit this one out

A concept's body might be strong, but their mind is very weak. Their emotions are always intense and unpredictable, and what'd be a tragic, but bearable event to a human might be the breaking point of a concept.

Concepts, for being mostly immortal, struggle to comprehend the death of one of their own. They don't know how to properly grieve. How to understand and digest the death of someone meant to live forever?

A concept's death might be another concept's descent into madness.

She had planned a good ambush, he was willing to admit that. Paige, however, didn't account for his sword pointed out in front of him, and impaled herself on the blade. She now stood on weakened legs, looking down at the black metal with wide eyes as it was painted over with a coat of vermilion.

"Fuck." She rasped out, her hands hovering over the length of the sword, yet doing nothing. She coughs up the blood accumulating on her punctured lung, and the curls on her hair slowly begin to straighten.

"Tough luck, dear." Tony replied, his face unreadable except for his glistening yellow eyes. He sweeps her feet from under her and Paige crashes to the floor, the sword recklessly ripped out of her ribcage as she went down. The blood spurts out, now running wildly across her dress and the floorboards. She makes a choked noise as she hits the floor, coughing up more blood.

Tony waited, even expected, for Paige to counterattack, to kick at his shins or at least run away. But she just lied down where he'd dropped her, looking at him with melancholy as blood poured out of the gaping wound between her ribs. A sensation of unease crawled down his spine and settled in his stomach.

"What, are you dead already?" He questions bitterly, nudging at her waist with the tip of his boot. A new burst of blood seeps from her mouth and runs down the sides of her jaw as her chest convulses. Weakly, she shakes her head no.

"Did you give up, dear? What a shame..." He grins. "Would you like a mercy kill?"

"Yes, but-" Another coughing fit, and another mouthful of blood seeps out. "Before you do that, I have to say something."

"Go ahead, then." He replies, posing his sword right over her heart.

"I love you."

His eyebrows rise, and his expression changes to one of a pleasant surprise. "Adorable. You know, Paige," He steps on her left shoulder, pinning her in place. Something snaps. "I love myself too."

In one swift move, the sword pierces her chest and slices through her heart. She barely had time to let out a pathetic little gasp before going fully limp. With little care, he pulls out his sword from her mutilated chest, choosing to leave her body where it was.

Paige had acted so strange... Once she got up, he could ask why so little resistance. With that thought, Tony made his way upstairs. He needed a shower after all that.

Once he got out, though, with his hair still dripping and a towel wrapped around his hips, he looked down the stairs for any sign of Paige's recovery. Only to find her laid down in the exact same way he had left her, the gashes in her chest as open as he had made them.

Perhaps he had done more damage than he'd imagined, he concluded. And with that, Tony headed to his room to get dressed and finish some projects.

Perhaps two hours after the fact, Tony heard the shocked exclamations from their three little victims coming from the living room. That irked his curiosity. Was Paige still there, unconscious and healing, after two hours? If she was, she should be nearly done by now. No need for such a reaction.

He trots downstairs, only to find Paige exactly as he had left her two hours ago. Still on the floor, still with her chest torn open, still dead. Tony found that, now that the adrenaline and thrill of the hunt came down, the scene became much more unsettling, especially since Paige refused to heal and get up already.

For reasons not even he could explain, Tony carried Paige to his room, setting her down on his bed. A flashlight made the wounds glisten, now crusted and dark, barely hiding the shattered bones underneath. She felt abnormally cold, and her hair seemed more and more opaque by the minute.

If he had any doubt before, now he was certain something was wrong. But he'd rather ignore the possible outcomes. He changed into his night clothes and tucked Paige in before climbing into bed, mindless to the congealed blood sticking to the covers. He drifted to sleep as his hand held hers, already cold and stiff.

The room awoke with the pungent smell of decaying matter and blood. Not that Tony noticed, since he had grown used to it during the night.

"Paige, dear," He sweetly calls, tapping at her hollow cheeks. Her head tilts towards him, unresponsive. "It's time to wake up."

She doesn't move an inch. He reaches for her shoulder and shakes her, ignoring the unnatural way her shoulder dislocated from its socket. "Paige, wake up."

Again, no reply from her. "Fine," he huffs. "Keep sleeping, then. I won't wait for you."

He dresses up and settles down his hair as best as he can before walking downstairs towards the kitchen. The trio is already there, and curiously enough, they all wince as he approaches.

"Good morning, you three." He bluntly greets, pushing Harry out of the way so he could grab his favorite mug. "Paige is sleeping in again. Leave the table set for her once you're done."

Harry and Robin eye each other with unease. Besides the awful smell of stale blood and rot Tony seemed to not notice, he also struggled to understand that something was wrong with Paige. Normally, their bodies don't rot or smell like much other than blood before they heal. From the scent alone, it was clear to the rest of the household that Paige wasn't healing.

"Tony." Harry called, having gathered just enough courage to do so.

"Yes?"

"... I don't think Paige is coming back."

Tony chuckles, awfully jovial as he sips on his fresh coffee. "What do you mean? We always come back! You should know that better than anyone."

"Tony, your room smells like something died in there. We both know Paige isn't sleeping in. I don't know what you did, but she's not healing this time."

"Yes she is."

"She isn't, man. She's rotting up there-"

"She is not rotting!" He yells, and takes a second to catch his breath. His yellow eyes frantically wander around the room as he shakily adjusts his hair. "She's just... Sleeping. She'll wake up soon, and... And you're just trying to get under my skin."

This time, Robin spoke up. "Tony, we all know it's hard to accept death,"

"Paige isn't dead!"

"But you can't keep her corpse in your room! In two or three days it'll be filled with maggots! Is that what you want for her?"

Tony's shoulders slump, his yellow eyes fixated on the floor despite his insistence in keeping his chin up. The image of maggots festering inside Paige, eating her entrails and desecrating her flesh brought him a sense of guilt and dread he never thought he'd feel.

He mutters. "Give her time. If she doesn't wake up until noon, I'll rid us of the body myself."

"You wanna keep a corpse in the house-"

"Robin, leave him alone. Noon isn't too far, we can just open the windows to air the house out later."

Robin huffs, but eventually agrees.

Noon comes and goes, and Paige hasn't moved a muscle. Without a single word, Tony carries her out to the backyard and buries her amidst her precious garden. The flowers and leaves seem to bow in mourning as she's lowered to the ground and covered by dirt, becoming one with her beloved plants, feeding their beauty and their venom the same way they had fed hers.

He doesn't come back inside for hours, lying down next to thorns and leaves and a freshly covered grave. The first signs of a storm begin to form, and as the rain pours he can only think about how she'd love to watch the storm. He doesn't care about the water soaking his hair, or the mud dirtying his clothes. If he could will the plants to take over his body with their roots and consume him alive, he surely would do so. It would only be fair, now that he had taken Paige away forever.

Or maybe not, a small voice in his head chimes. Maybe she's still here in a way. Maybe she's watching the rain with him right now.

That's a much more comfortable thought, he hazily concludes, as his body temperature quickly rises. He could almost feel her there, hear her footsteps... His vision was blurry, but if Tony stretched out his hand, he was sure he'd find Paige's hair sprawled next to him. He could still hear her laughter ring in his ears, and her skirt ruffles as she leans down next to him.

"Come on," A feminine voice whispers in his ear. "Let's go inside. It's cold out here."

He found himself in a trance, following that wispy image of Paige into the house without even thinking. She disappears at the doorway, and he searches for her with the dependency of a dog looking for its owner.

"Paige?" He calls, looking around the house. "Where'd you go?"

"Up here!" She calls, from the top of the staircase.

He sprints after her, watching as she calmly turns around and enters his room. Her hand makes a motion as if to push the door open further, but it doesn't move.

He rushes upstairs and leans into his room, catching his breath. Paige was sat on his bed, the mattress unaffected by her weight.

"Paige, what happened to you today?"

"Nothing happened, silly. I'm right here, see?" She giggles, and warmth spreads across his chest at the sound of her laughter.

He sighs. "You just seemed so... Sad. You didn't even fight back."

"I'm sorry about that. I guess I was just having a bad day."

"That's alright. Just don't leave me alone like that again. Please."

"I won't."

After a restless attempt at sleeping, Tony bitterly gets up from the bed, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead as he adjusts his clothes and puts on his slippers. His thoughts were previously plagued by visions of blood and broken bones tainting perfectly white skin, but now a glass of water was his main interest.

He goes out to the corridor, glancing with annoyance at the heavy rain pattering against the windows, and almost makes his way to the staircase before he spots a black and white figure standing at the far end of the corridor. It was pitch black, but Paige's dress and her face seemed dimly luminous, reflecting onto her hair and the dark ink which coated her limbs.

She doesn't seem happy, he brilliantly concluded in his half awake state.

"You were just gonna sleep it off, huh?" She called out, her arms crossing over her chest.

"What-"

"You don't even regret it!" She shrieks. "You ruined me, you left me to rot and you don't even care!"

Tony raises both hands defensively. "Paige, please, it's not like that..."

"You miserable excuse of a man, you couldn't even say you loved me back as I died in front of you!"

Paige uncrosses her arms, and Tony notices a small red stain on her chest. The stain grows with ever flowing blood, ripping effortlessly through her dress to show ragged, mangled flesh and broken ribs.

"I didn't know..." He whined, tears filling his eyes. "I thought you'd come back."

"I wasted my last words to say I loved you! And you used them to stroke your own ego... You disgust me." Blood poured out of the gaping wound in Paige's chest, dirtying her skirt. Slightly to the left, her heart hanged open with a clean slice.

"I'm sorry, I'll do better-"

Thunder roared outside, and a flash of lightning made Paige disappear for only a second. Her laughter, however, echoed in his ears even louder than the storm.

"You don't have any time left for that. You'll just have to live with what you've done. And I'll be here to remind you of what you did to me." Her eyes widen, and her grin grows. "Forever."

Tony didn't know when he had ended up on the floor, gripping onto the railing with such strength the wood began to rapidly age. But he came to that realization as the feeling of Harry's hand shaking him by the shoulder got him out of his trance. Robin handed him his much desired glass of water, and both listened as he explained his encounter.

"Dude, I know this is hard to hear, but Paige isn't here anymore. You didn't really see her."

"Yes I did, and... And she was yelling at me, you must've heard that!"

"We heard you talking to yourself. That's why we came to check on you."

Tony looks back at the end of the corridor, but Paige is nowhere to be found. Her laughter echoes, very faintly, in his mind.

Lightning flashes once again, and the silhouette of a woman towering over the three of them causes Tony to wince and hide his head in his hands. Paige's eyes flashed with the lightning, pinprick pupils aimed at him.

"... You still seeing her?"

"She's right here..." He mutters, breaking down sobbing.

"She isn't, that's all in your head!" Robin speaks, perhaps a tad impatiently. "That's your brain making you feel guilty. Paige didn't come back to haunt you."

"You could say she's haunting him, in a way."

"What do you want from me?" He sobbed, while Paige's apparition stood balanced on one foot, weightless, on the edge of his bed.

Paige grins at him. "I want you to never forget what you've done. But," She walks across the mattress, carelessly stepping over him without any weight, both her feet stopping on his ribcage. Even with her lack of mass, Tony feels the lack of space in his lungs. "You could do something for me."

"What is it?"

"You know," She leaps to the floor, landing on the hardwood floors next to his bed without so much as a thump. The chest of her dress is once again a pristine white. "They didn't throw away my pills."

Tony waits in silence for her to continue.

"You know what to do," Paige smiles, almost sweetly so, and signs with her head towards the door. "If they taste too bad, put them in your coffee, dear."

"Of course, love." He nods, mindlessly making his way to the kitchen.

Three medicine flasks worth of pills were dumped into boiling water, with no bother to read their labels. Tony always found those chemical compositions too hard to understand, anyway. He didn't know exactly how Paige did it, but this amount of medicine should be enough, regardless of what they're used for.

At last, the dark liquid was done, served in Tony's favorite mug. He didn't know why, but once he was faced with the task of drinking it, he suddenly felt discouraged. Should he really..?

Paige's dress shone from the doorway, her pale face displaying a kind expression rarely seen on her. "Go ahead," Her voice was soft and gentle. "We'll see each other soon, darling."

That trance took over him once again, and with a blank mind he downed the entire mug at once, ignoring the unfamiliar bitter taste of the medicine overpowering the coffee itself. He finishes the cup with a dry heave, his tongue gagging him in protest of the overly bitter taste.

"Very well, dear!" Paige smiled, clapping. "I'll see you soon!"

"Before you go," Tony calls, already feeling his legs go weak as his stomach rebels against the revolting drink. "Can I tell you something?"

"Go ahead!" She excitedly says, ignoring how Tony drops to the floor with trembling hands and a dry mouth.

He takes a second to catch his breath, struggling to keep the mixture in his stomach.

"I..." A spasm takes over him, his body curling uncomfortably tight into itself. His throat dries and his airways tighten near completely. "Love you... Too."

"Adorable, hun. I'll be waiting for you!"

With that, Paige vanishes, leaving Tony trembling and contorting his own body unnaturally on the cold kitchen floor. His eyes were dry and pained, but his body was dripping with sweat on account of the violent shivers that took over him. He hit his own head on the tiled floor multiple times, and along with the medicine overriding his brain, his sights were quickly going out. A disgusting foam dribbled out of his mouth, choking him as it crawled up his throat.

But none of that mattered. He didn't want a quick, or painless death. He'd do anything, no matter how complex or excruciating it'd be. He'd go through this a thousand times if it were necessary.

He just wanted to be with Paige again.

#dhmis #tony the talking clock #dhmis padlock #paige the sketchbook #dhmis sketchbook #paige the notepad #padlock fanfic #dhmis fanfic #tw death mention #tw death #tw suicide #tw gore mention #tw maggots #tw hallucinations #icehell #icehell padlock

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amajorsystem · 2 months

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I need to get more bones :( we have a bracelet made out of a squirrel spine though! we personally removed and cleaned the bones ourselves

#it was dead already obviously #also there were maggots that still hadn't left and theres probably still maggot corpses in the garage #because they woke up from the cold and escaped as i was removing the bones. wehhh #uhhhhh #bugs tw #maggots tw #dead animal mention #thats it i think #francis.txt

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mawofthemagnetar · 2 years

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Imp And Skizz Play Football

“You ever ask yourself, like, ‘what’s it all for’?” Impulse rasped, his voice deep and rumbling.

“Dude!” Skizz called in the voice of the legion burning in radiance, “You wanna throw the ball already?”

“Fine, fine,” Impulse grumbled.

The plague demon braced his clawed feet on the soft grass, grass that was withering and dying all around him. He leaned back, thrashing his tail (covered as it was in hypodermic spikes full of disease) and tossed the football as hard as he could.

On the other side of the plain, Skizz floated over to receive. The football flew right into the centre of his body, hovering in the glowing nucleus. He was comprised of a dozen-odd wheels, rotating and spinning and covered in flames and glowing eyes. He shone with radiant light, and his wheels spun faster as he fired the football right back.

“No, but seriously,” Impulse said, growling as the ball flew over his horns and crashed ten feet up into a tree, “Like, what’s the point? Of me, mostly, but also of you? Why are we here?”

“Well, you know. You make people sick, I make them better. It’s the circle of life, you know?” Skizz replied, patiently twirling his wheels. He glanced over- and groaned.

“Impulse, my body fell off the hanger again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, don’t worry.” Impulse said easily. He dropped the ball and ambled over to a nearby tree, shaking his head.

“We gotta get better hangers, dude. This is not gonna cut it.” Impulse clucked his tongue.

“Hey, don’t look at me! You said it was rated for all six-foot-ten of solidified Skizz!”

Impulse shook his head again. Yep, there it was. The nail, driven deep into the trunk of a glorious oak tree, bursting into life- the picture of arboreal health and fitness. And there, on the grass, Skizz’s empty shell.

The coat hanger that they’d slipped into the back of said shell’s shirt had slipped off, and now the body was there in a crumpled heap.

“Man, you gotta learn how to shapeshift. It’s easier.”

“It’s easier when you already have arms! Do I look like I have arms?!” Skizz protested, “Last time I tried growing a body I got my arms and head mixed up and then that nice family who needed help with their pneumonia ran away screaming!”

“Theeeen… have you considered a corpse?” Impulse suggested, realigning the coat hanger and lifting Skizz’ robotic shell back up. He carefully hung the empty magitek shell back on its peg, and walked back towards the ball.

“Corpse? CORPSE? Dude! No! That’s like, rule number one! You don’t- it’s not- it’s not classy.” Skizz protested.

“Works pretty good for Cleo, I’d say.” Impulse said, scooping up the ball and getting ready to throw it again.

“Yeah, and Zed gripes himself blue about her every time we meet. Look, dude, it ain’t happening. It ain’t…not a good look. You get to be with the gross stuff, I get to do the nice stuff. It’s, like, the way of things.”

“Healing can be pretty gross,” Impulse chirped, tossing the ball gently, “I mean, you ever seen a guy get his stomach pumped?”

“Yeah, but that’s…that’s different.” Skizz said, “Though I guess…I mean. Thanks for teaching me about the maggots, by the way. I’d never have thought to even try it.”

Skizz caught the ball in his middle again, spinning around a few times for luck before firing it back.

Impulse chuckled.

“I mean, there’s…people don’t talk about the overlap enough. Sickness and health are a lot closer than you’d think.”

“Yeah, tell me about it, mister “I racked up my infection count because my cool angel bro told me all about these hip new things called ‘bacteriophages’.” Skizz said smugly.

“And who exactly needed to go into that hospital and handle that raging C. Diff outbreak with said hip new bacteriophages after his good angel buddy terrified all the doctors with legs instead of arms? Yeah, that’s right, it’s me.” Impulse chortled right back.”

“You had fun doing that and you know it!” Skizz countered.

“Yeah, you’re right. Phages, man. They’re great when you know what you’re doing.” Impulse chortled.

He’d caught the ball already, and tossed it straight back with an overhand toss from one of his lower pairs of arms. Impulse shuffled his seven wings and rolled his shoulders, flexing his jaw a few times. All the needle-sharp teeth in there jutting at odd angles could get a little sore from time to time.

“…You hurt?” Skizz asked automatically, “Want some help?”

“Uh, Skizz?” Impulse said, gesturing with one of his lower hands at his very-much-easily-damaged-by-holy-radiance-body, “Remember?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. Uh, take a painkiller and I hope you feel better.” Skizz said awkwardly, “Anyway…after this, you wanna play something else?”

“Yeah! Wanna play Typhoid Mary?”

“…No, Impulse, no I don’t.”

#Magnetar writes #impulsesv fic #Skizzleman fic #Demonpulse #medical tw #maggots tw #needles tw #disease mention #i have no explanation I was just watching imp and skizz earlier #might expand on this later #but i do love plague demon Impy a ton #IDK #enjoy?

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