IV

Vwahl Kenek screamed and fell to the ground, cracking his jaw on the floor and nearly biting the tip off his tongue. He wriggled like an eel and felt the wounds in his arms reopen, except that this time blood did not gush from them, but rather into them. And, he realized, it wasn't blood, but a sort of thin black ichor.

He felt his body fill with the foul substance until he felt as if he had eaten a large meal. The influx finally stopped. Vwahl laid, panting, waiting for the pain to pass.

Eventually, like all things, it did.

Vwahl gave a ragged gasp of pain and pleasure, then slowly stood back up.

He looked down at his arms. There seemed to be a translucence beneath them, like old marble with veins of deep indigo in them. He ran a hand over each surface. They felt no different.

He cackled and continued on his way through the corridor, lights flickering around him.