Mount Apikuni [m] ptolemaea

Mature Content Warning

This thread has been marked as mature. By reading and/or participating in this thread, you acknowledge that you are of age or have permission from your parents to do so.

The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: implied suicidal ideation, self-harm, abuse, and gore; a lot of fuckedupness in here. MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING

What was she doing here?
Her eyes skip as she looks down at the slope; she feels the hammer of her heart in her ears. Her head swims viciously.
When she looks at her feet as they teeter the precipice, they do not feel as if they are attached to her. This is not her body, instead the corporeal form of — say it, say his name; Dad.
He is inside of her, he is her entire; she can feel the grasp of his teeth upon her wrists as they weep and crimson snarls across the limestone. She can feel the weight of him, the press of his presence, the —

No one loves you like I do
It won't always hurt like this, babygirl
There's nothing you can do

The blood is on her chest and it is hot and the smell is thick. The droning of flies; the ravens, they swoop overhead already, and she cannot find her mother's face — where is her face? Where is it where is it why is she here? Why is she still here?
It's in his teeth, the morsels of flesh.
It's in her teeth; the blood, the muscle, the skin. She can still feel it.

Stop it.
Come here, come-- it's okay
Where is Mama?
I won't hurt you
WHAT DID YOU DO?

What did she do what did she do what did she do what did she do what did she do what did she do what did sh—

Why is he looking at me? Where is he? Where is he WHERE IS HE STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT

STOP

I'm sorry, cara mia. I love you.