[The omni-blade plunges in, straight through, skewering their small body in the gray, unseeing dark. Shoulder. It wasn't a clean hit — there'd be a lot more struggling before they died, then. What's left of her grotesque expression twists into dissatisfaction. A job done badly. More work to clear out the chafe.
But something wasn't quite right.
Their hands were on its wrist, holding on to the blade-- holding it in? And something else was pouring out.
Thick drops of rent shadow drip down, viscous, splashing on to Chara, mixing with their own bubbling bile — then separating, sluicing out and back together, snaking their way back up "Shepard's" arms. As the black ink knits stickily together into a familiar visage, the world fades back in to a terrifying, technicolor scene.
But what a good creepy face.
It's enough make the shadow smile back, twisting the blade.]
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But something wasn't quite right.
Their hands were on its wrist, holding on to the blade-- holding it in? And something else was pouring out.
Thick drops of rent shadow drip down, viscous, splashing on to Chara, mixing with their own bubbling bile — then separating, sluicing out and back together, snaking their way back up "Shepard's" arms. As the black ink knits stickily together into a familiar visage, the world fades back in to a terrifying, technicolor scene.
But what a good creepy face.
It's enough make the shadow smile back, twisting the blade.]