QUAB – (v) to throb or quiver
Jennifer's scars were throbbing, and the cold, water-flodded ground was seeping into her skin. With the deaths of Phylis and Zakaree, she hadn't had much incentive to move. Their shared room was eerily quite, with the occasional squeak of the bed. She didn't dare open the door. The sight was still burned deep into her brain, and her empty stomach folded once again.
Lissi's stomach and pelvis were coated in a thick, green coat of slime. A hole the size of her fist was being eaten away by the gunk, and she was almost sure that she could see the fetus kicking within the gaping wound. Her lower jaw was hinged on by a thin strand of muscle, and more acid was pouring over her neck and breasts. Her eyes were glazed over, facing the door, almost reflective. Jennifer had thrown up violently at the sight, she almost didn't see Zakaree in his condition.
His skin had peeled away on one arm, and its smell resembled that of beef jerky. His muscles were bulging through what little clothing had remained on his corpse. One arm had been ripped off and a pool of blood was next to the clawed appendage. His face was scrunched in pain, one eye socket gouged away by a bird, she assumed.
Her body convulsed and she dry heaved for what felt like an hour. The room went black and all she could hear was the calls of her brother-in-law and sister back before hell showed up on their front door.