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Killer woke up to the thrumming of LV in his bones and hollow ringing in his skull, already signifying it was going to be a day.
No one was awake, the castle was silent. The hate that dripped down Killer’s cheekbones made a gurgling sound as it gathered in his skull, leaving him with a head that felt foggy and heavy.. His mouth felt dry and there was the taste of battery acid in the back of his skull. Fuck, maybe he should have stayed in bed today but just the thought of laying in the determination that poured from his eye sockets in thick globules made a shiver run down his spine. Yeah, he’d rather not. So with a heave that was completely unwarranted, he pulled himself into a sitting position and slipped a shirt that was on the floor fro the day before over his ribs. The determination on the neckline was already dry, crusting and leaving flakes on his cervical vertebrae but it was better than nothing. He was already wearing pants and didn’t really feel like changing them. It’s not like everyone else hadn’t seen his pelvis before anyways.
The buzz of his soul was irritating, the flickering outline warping in and out of sight as if it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. The repetitive fizzling made him feel like he was boiling on the inside but freezing on the outside, for a lack of better words. He was uncomfortable. Even the thin lines of his scars along his arms and ribs itched. His skull thrummed with every movement he made, the hate pouring from his eyes was especially thick today so when he went to wipe his face, his hand came back covered in the black liquid. When he tried to spread his metacarpals, the substance held between them like silly string. He itched at some of the cuts on his ulna, a bit of dust and marrow flaked off without much fanfare. Shame. It would have been nice if he just bled out on the floor. The thought was disturbing, but whatever. It didn’t really matter what he wanted anyways, he had lost the privilege to want when he killed his brother.
Huh, maybe Dust was rubbing off on him.
Either way, the liquid in his skull burbled and as he went through the day, the food he ate felt dry and stuck to the inside of his mouth, his marrow was churning with the urge to kill kill ki-
“KILLER!”
There it was. He’d fucked up again. He looked at his phalanges and clothes, finding them smeared with blood and dust as Nightmare’s chiding voice faded into white noise like he was underwater, the adrenaline from the mission was wearing off and his limbs weighed down like lead, his eye sockets drooping as he closed them further. The liquid determination made his ‘eyelids’ feel sticky to the point of them feel like they burnt when he tried to open them. Nightmare’s voice faded out at some point- leaving Killer standing in silence covered in blood and dust with determination falling down his cheekbones like a tap turned on full and his eye sockets closed. He felt a poke to his arm and that was enough for his body to fall onto the snow.
The snow bit into his bones with its cold, but it cooled the heat in his bones and absorbed the hatred, just that tiny bit of comfort was enough. Enough to make him fall asleep to his teammate’s panicked yelling of his name.