Bones and guts- Tengen
After a brutal fight with upper six, Tengen was on the edge of death. He was injured. And he knew he had to get up, for the other slayers sake. Both demons were still alive. Feeling the pain all over he knew he should get up, continue the fight that his entire life relied on. Even if he survived without killing them, he'd be eternally wrecked with guilt if he did not finish them off and had to simply let them get away with killing all the people they already had and would. He had to kill them.
Finding where the pain was, well it wasn't so easy, he hurt all over and the poison running through him made him confused. He tried to get up. tried to place his hand on the ground to steady himself. But nothing hit the stone below him. wait, what? No way, his mind wouldn't process it. like it just couldn't be happening. Slowly, almost not wanting to check, he raised his arm to his face. as it slowly came into vision, he tried with everything he had to convince himself his eyes were wrong. that it was just the blood flowing down his head deceiving him. but there it was. Just a wrist without a hand. Poking out of it was his bone, he'd never seen his own bones before, other peoples, sure. But never had he actually seen his own blood coated but still white bone. Somehow it just didn't seem real to him, like there was no possible way for his mind to be convinced that what he was looking at was indeed his own bone.
Reality was sinking in, and he felt the pain of the severed skin crying out to him. like his body had only just realised just how injured it was. Breathing became impossible. Now the blood from the slice in his wrist was pouring down his arm becoming a twisted waterfall, or maybe better to call it a bloody fountain. Blood dripped onto the floor with a splat as he could only stare. As his arms weakened, he could barely keep himself up, his face inched closer to the floor, where the blood was now pooling into a worryingly large puddle. Reflecting his face. that didn't look to good either, which was a weird thing to think as someone who was always so proud of his own appearance. But now all he could see was blood pouring down his pale and sickly-looking face, the poison was evident too. Just judging by his face alone it looked like he was losing.
All strength he had left was slowly fading from him, so he laid down, letting his hand-less arm stick out in front of him uselessly. Blood that had been pouring out from him was now gathered in a pool just where he was supposed to place his head. As his head laid down in it and the cold liquid hit his face, he realised that he was already so covered in it that really it didn't make much of a difference.
But that just meant it was better for playing dead.