Author's Note: This one definitely has a trigger warning on it. Basically, it's the body horror that comes with becoming a Cenobite. TW: Gore and vomit
Genesis- (noun) the origin or mode or formation of something.
The Genesis begins...
Kirsty nervously awaited her transformation all alone in a dark voided room.
After a seeming eternity of never ending torture, of every single possible crossing of boundary between pleasure and pain, she was finally deemed worthy for cenobitification.
I can do this. With baited breath, she anticipated her final fate.
The hooks had snagged themselves on her clothes, carrying her away, suspending her in mid air. Kirsty was fearful of what would happen next, but she did not facially express so. A few extra hooks clawed onto her jacket, tearing the not so delicate fabric away, leaving her shirt in tatters. Another hook ripped through the layers of her black floral skirt, reducing it to nothing. A couple more hooks tore off the tattered remains of her red shirt, leaving her in her bra, underwear, torn pantyhose, and boots. Smaller hooks snagged the elastic fabric and peeled it off of Kirsty, while the bigger hooks stripped her boots off. Two large hooks perforated the skin on her shoulders, causing an immense amount of pain. Her bra and underwear were tugged and pulled off of her in one fell final swoop, leaving her exposed to the elements.
With baited breath, she dreaded what was to come next. She felt a searing hot knife sink into the skin of her left foreleg, dragging it across in a horizontal position. It continued until it returned to where the wound was first inflicted. The heated metal then sliced in a long vertical position. Kirsty felt her toenails being quickly yanked off, one by one by one until there were none left. The skin from her foreleg was peeled off as any veins exposed were cauterized. It seemed eternal until the epidermis was severed completely. She watched as the skin dropped to the void, where it exploded into fireworks. She felt the process being repeated on her right foreleg.
Her now skinless feet had been fitted with black wedged sandals. Leather thigh leggings were slid up to her thighs. The hooks on end peeled back the remaining skin; a cilice belt acting as a garter for her left thigh. The straps from the waist garter contained small hooks, which punctured through leather and flesh. She felt piercing needles bite through her genitals, ornate rings soon replacing them. Kirsty was able to breathe a little when she was fitted for underwear. (A/N: Or should I exclude this and run the risk of people assuming she goes commando in public?) Her arms were next. Leather gloves, similar to the Hell Priest's, except instead of the pinky and thumb being gloved, it was the index, middle, and ring fingers, started covering up her arms. These gloves reached to the biceps. Barbed wire wrapped around where the elbows were. Smaller hooks sunk only glove deep to reveal her palms side up before two spikes impaled her hands, causing a howl of agony.
The feeling of the hot knife returned with a vengeance. This time though, it was on her back, in a similar way her feet were, red tissue would be exposed with the skin pulled back by tiny hooks. The first layer of her dress slid onto her skin, it was sweetheart shaped, backless with a slit on the left side. The under was pure crimson silk while the over part was black leather, and the top part was a woven pattern. The second layer was an open backed white silk robe. It laced in the front part. A stole was draped over her shoulders, as if it were a priestess vestment, except this one was embroidered with hellish symbols. A black leather crown-like corset wrapped around her middle. A red sash tied around her waist, overlapping the corset and the stole. A piece of her chest skin was pierced as well, to accommodate for a pectorale, or rather, an unholy mockery of one.
The hooks which were snagged to her shoulders slid off, causing her to breath a sigh of relief as the hooks were now hanging to her new vestments. However, a new hook grabbed ahold of her hair, pulling it up, though not enough to actually rip it off. She felt the painfully hot knife along her scalp, cutting into it. Making sure no strand was left untouched, the knife pressed further into the skin, cutting away the epidermal part and severing any snags that held her hair, skull, and tissue together. Soon after, the skin and hair pulled away with ease, dropping into the abyss where it incinerated.
She felt a rather malevolent force take over her body. It wasn't painful, but it was still no better than the physical pain, just as nauseating. Her blood was pumping through her veins at an inhumanly rapid rate. Her adrenaline kicked in, and she started struggling. The memories she managed to suppress were finally coming back to the surface. Her complexion was whitening to a deathly cenobitic pallor. The irises of Kirsty's eyes were darkening to pools of onyx void, and the whites of her teeth were dimming down to a hint of yellow. She felt the hot knife prickle into the skin of her head again, which had apparently regenerated skin, but no hair from her scalping. She felt grid lines being carved into the delicate skin, barely missing her eyes and mouth.
Once it seemed to be over and the knife pulled away, Kirsty opened her eyes to see tentacles holding what looked like to be shiny, golden pins with glittering with deep red garnets. She closed her eyes again, feeling metal stab into the carvings of her head. Kirsty knew that it wasn't done yet. Now, here comes the hard part, embedding those pins into her skull. The appendages taking their sweet time to hammer down each one painfully, breaching each anatomical barrier that would have deemed every pin unacceptable. It was like a penetrating migraine multiplied by a thousand times.
She felt four needles stab into her jugulars. Getting a good look at them, they were attached to surgical tubes. The bottom two were extracting her blood while the top two were injecting a bluish fluid. Kirsty started to feel faint, but at the same time, she couldn't pass out. Not just yet at least.
After what seemed like forever, it was over. The hooks holding her up placed her back down onto the floor gently. Her feet stung as if she were walking on smoldering embers.
Walking over to one of the glass mirrors, Kirsty took a good, long look at her new self. Her human mind had a lot to process, that she knew, but upon gazing at the places where skin and tissue had been peeled apart from one another, bile started rising up that she fought to keep down. A closer inspection revealed how deep the pins embedded in her head were.
"I... I... I... I..." Was all Kirsty could say in an in humane voice before the contents of her stomach spewed out onto the glass monolith.
Everything soon faded away, and she was in her room now, but she still felt queasy.
Outside, the Hell Priest watched the entire event unfold.
"Is there something the matter with her?" He inquired with a hint of concern.
"Just the fevers. Nothing more." Answered his female companion.
The fevers. Pinhead repeated internally. Of course, he himself had them when he first came to be. Anyone would be susceptible to them, save for the psychopathic few who enter Hell. In a couple days, they usually clear up, but until then...
Savor the pain, Kirsty. For it will be the last thing you ever feel now... He murmured to her from afar.
The Genesis has come to pass...
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-RavenNoJutsu