Spoilers for 'Book of Shadows'; Chapter 4 「Purgatory」 ahead. You have been warned. Declaimer, I do not own Corpse Party or any of the characters.
She paced down the dark, muddy corridors as the sound of a hard, heavy object being dragged across the dirt haunted her thoughts. The only thing she could hear was the loud clinging of steel being dragged, and bodies being throw to the ground with tremendous force. She couldn't walk any longer. Her knees gave way beneath her. She collapse to the ground in a heap as dirt and dust filled the air. She coughed as she brushed away the dirt on her matted skirt.
There was no way she could get up, not in the condition she was in. She pushed herself against the nearest mud slicked wall. The tightly packed mud stuck easily to her beat uniform. She basically clung to the wall, scared for someone to find her. Hurt her. But it wouldn't really matter. She was already dead.
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She awoke from her unconscious dreaming to the pitch black room with a horrid smell to it. She rubbed the side of her head, looking around the room. Scattered things from spare futons to sharp objects that decorated the ground was what eye sight was able to see. Dim light shimmered through beneath the large door, giving in the tiniest of light. She followed the beaming streak, avoiding any sharp object. Her feet dragged her to the large, wooden door. She placed her hands on the splintery wood, feeling for the exact place to pull.
"Ah!"
She pulled on the rough handle, letting in the still light. She cautiously headed out of the storage room and into the damp corridors. The air was musky, cold and held an awful odor of rotting meat from a distance. She gazed around the halls as she paced on. Creaking from above filled the eerie halls along with faint sounds of flickering lights. She pulled out her phone from her skirt pocket, glimpsing at the time. "T-that can't be right," she stuttered. "This time reads 25:45." She slid her phone back into her pocket, shrugging off the situation and began foreword once again.
She approached large structured, wooden doors, covered in dried blood, concealing a rancid aroma. She gripped the handles, and pulled with effortless strength. With a wave of horrid, nauseating odors, the doors swung open. She cautiously walked into the darkened room, gagging at the growth of aromas. She headed foreword, grazing buckets, and other objects with her exposed skin. She stopped in her tracks as the tingles in her thigh shot up. "I haven't realized how itchy my thigh was until now," she mumbled, reaching down to scratch her irritating thigh.
She brought her fingers to her face, examining the slimy, cold solid in her fingers. She rolled the object around in her fingers. The soft texture triggered her gag reflexes as she continued. "I-is this...skin," she choked as she brought the item closer to her eyes. "Is..this my skin," she questioned herself, anxiously rubbing her thighs. "Unngh!"
Small pieces of skin covered her thighs and knees. She screeched in horror, brushing her legs vigorously as the tiny pieces began to fall off. Her shaken scream echoed through the room as she fell back, hitting the rough dirt wall. The lights flickered on, filling the room with glistening light. Buckets and buckets of a dark, syrupy like substance filled to the top decorated the room. Dried blood drenched the floors, and walls, giving off the rancid, rotting meat stench. Tools from axes, to small sewing scissors laid on one lone blood soaked, decrepitude table In the far corner of the filthy room laid a disorderly cabinet, trenched in dried blood from the hinges to the handles. But the masterpiece of the room was the bloody table in the center on the room. Bloody straps for holding something or someone down covered the four corners of the table. Small beads of blood dripped off the wooden table as if something had just been murdered there.
She covered her mouth, screaming into her hands as tears soaked her eyes. This must be a slaughter house. Yeah, nothing more than a slaughter house, she thought as her thoughts began to wander. She uncovered her mouth, wiping away the tears rolling down her soft cheeks. She stumbled foreword, looking into a decomposing bucket. She gazed into the bucked in horror. It was loitered with maggots and blood soaked hands of unfortunate victims. Hands from large innocent high school subjects to small junior high children hands. She backed away until her back hit the wall. Her yelps filled the room as footsteps approached the room. She covered her mouth, and shook herself out of her daze. I-I need someplace to hide! But where? She examined the room, quaking in fear while stumbling foreword. Ah! The cabinet! Perfect!
She ran towards the decrepitude cabinet, grabbing the handles, and pulling the doors open with tremendous effort. The footsteps became closer with every heartbeat while she shoved herself into the cabinet, shutting the doors behind her. The creaking hinges of the entrance's door squeaked loudly as the piercing footsteps stopped in front of the table. She looked through the small crack left from closing the doors as the large man threw a small girl down on the table. The tiny girl screamed in agony as she examined in closer. Oh god. S-she has no legs beneath the thighs! Who could do such things to such a small girl, the girl , crimson blood poured out of her open wounds, like a waterfall. The man strapped her into the table as she struggled and screaming for help. He walked away as he scavenged through his tools. Her helpless screams echoed throughout the whole room.
He returned to her with large pliers in his grasp. He hovered over her, forcing her mouth open and shoving the pliers in her mouth. Her weeps, and screams died down to short screams of agony. He pulled something out of her mouth with the pliers with tremendous force and threw it to the side. It was the innocent girls tongue. Her horrific yelps slowly fated into dying gurgles. She choked on her own blood. She was dying right before her and she couldn't do anything. The giant man moaned as he dropped the pliers, making a clinging sound as they hit the ground. She looked down to her knees, noticing she voided her bowels. She pleaded to herself over an over, please, don't notice me! Don't notice my...production! He groaned, then slowly began to leave the room. With a slam of the large door, the giant man was gone. She cracked open the door, stepping out of the cabinet.
The wet substance dripped down her thighs and down her legs. She cautiously closed the cabinet behind her as she headed foreword. She slowly paced foreword noticing the tiny girl sprawled out on the table. Her mouth was agape with blood pouring out of every corner. Her mouth was full of blood, and her tongue was missing. She blankly stared up at the ceiling wide eyed with dried tears soaking her eyes, and once, soft cheeks. Her pupils were dilated, and the blood vessels in her eyes were clearly visible. She choked on her own blood. She was dead. Her body was still warm. Lukewarm to the touch. It was losing warmth fast. Her blood soaked legs were covered in faintly dried blood, and fresh blood that continuously poured from her body. They must have been sliced with a blunt object, it wasn't a perfect cut. The table was covered in her syrupy like, crimson red blood, and the previous dried blood from other subjects.
She backed away from the poor girl's corpse and towards the door. I shouldn't stay here long, what if that big man returns?She looked back at the girl once more, and griped the handle of the wooden door. I'm sorry, this shouldn't have happened!She pulled open the door, and took a few steps out. She looked up at the damp ceiling, and shuttered. The air was a lot colder than before. How long has it been? Minutes, hours, days since I ran frantically out of that awful phone had died long ago so there's no way I can contact anybody but it's not like I could reach anybody, there's sure to be no signal down here. She'd grown hungry, thirsty and yet again, tired. She'd sleep for most of her time, there was nothing else to do, she searched high and low for signs of live but none to be found. The approaching sound of a large, blunt object scrapping horridly against the gravel flooring shot her away from her thoughts. No! I don't want to die! Not yet! Save me! Okaasan¹! Naho-chan!
A large man stood above her, welding what looked to be a sledgehammer. Then it had begun. There was no chance in survival. Blood gurgling screams escaped her relentlessly as agonizing pain shot through her entire body. Her eyes stared lifelessly into the distance, tears dripping down her soften cheeks. Bead by bead, blood poured from her and onto the pavement, staining it red as if someone had began to paint in that exact spot. Her vision became blurry and for sure she could feel the blood rushing to her head. The pain was excruciating, nothing like it can top what it felt like. She slowly felt the blood vessels in her eyes begin to burst from the pressure, it felt like her head could explode at any moment The last thing she saw was a faint child in the distance as her body was being dragged away. "Hmm? What's this? ... Yummy," the child giggled. She felt herself losing consciousness, damp tears flowing from her eyes with only one thing on her mind. "Na...ho-chan," Our friendship is forever, it will never ever disappear.
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"Ahh, Naho-chan," she rose her voice, her head clumsy draped upon her shoulder. "I wanna go home! Okaasan," she yelped. A smile tugged at her lips as her hands quickly fled to her pocket, "ah, the chocolate mom gave me!" She stuffed her hand into her skirt pocket to find nothing put lose strands of tread. "W-where's the chocolate mom gave," she asked herself panicky. I should have kept a better eye on it. She sat in silence, clutching her head. "It hurts," she groaned in agony, the pain coming in waves one after another. "Naho-chan, wherever you are, come, and save me," she muttered to herself. "You," she paused wiping away what seemed to be tried tears stuck to her cheeks, "promised to protect me, that we'd leave here together," She giggled softly to herself, throwing her head up off her shoulder, "I guess we'll have to meet each other some how!" We have to find each other, to be with one another. That's because our friendship is forever, Naho-chan, right?
¹Okaasan - standard formal of mother
I really felt like reposting this because this was my favorite chapter of my discontinued story "Paranoia." I did edit it a bit because it's complete an all and I completed that chapter in Book of Shadows so my knowledge of her death is more...fluent? Right... Well, I'll get to posting another Corpse Party fic sometime this summer! R&R! Thanks for sticking around and well, if you already read this, thanks for reading it again!