"I would not describe this as neat," he says, or maybe he screams, he's not quite sure anymore.
It gets worse.
And the worst part is that he can see it getting worse, he can see the venom working on changing him, so he knows, an instant before he feels it, just how bad the next second is going to be.
And the next.
And the next.
And the next.
Fire consumes. It does not create. It makes no sense. Addy lied to him, she must have, he's not becoming anything he's just dying. Maybe she killed him in his apartment and this is Hell, maybe there's a god and it's pissed off that he didn't donate more to charity, or it's really irritated about the way he got really rich using magic, or maybe it was all the pranks. Or befriending a mass murderer, maybe that was worse. In retrospect that was pretty bad, he's sure there's something he could have done to her when she told him this, anything that would have kept him out of this Hell. Maybe she'd have killed him anyway but he'd not be in Hell now.
He is no longer reporting anything to Addy.
It has been seven hours and forty-four minutes.
A part of his mind still remembers that she told him this would last three days, but that's ludicrous, he's certain he's been feeling this for at least a month, maybe two, except he's also certain it has very much not been half a day yet and he's not sure he can take over two and a half more days of this.
no subject
It gets worse.
And the worst part is that he can see it getting worse, he can see the venom working on changing him, so he knows, an instant before he feels it, just how bad the next second is going to be.
And the next.
And the next.
And the next.
Fire consumes. It does not create. It makes no sense. Addy lied to him, she must have, he's not becoming anything he's just dying. Maybe she killed him in his apartment and this is Hell, maybe there's a god and it's pissed off that he didn't donate more to charity, or it's really irritated about the way he got really rich using magic, or maybe it was all the pranks. Or befriending a mass murderer, maybe that was worse. In retrospect that was pretty bad, he's sure there's something he could have done to her when she told him this, anything that would have kept him out of this Hell. Maybe she'd have killed him anyway but he'd not be in Hell now.
He is no longer reporting anything to Addy.
It has been seven hours and forty-four minutes.
A part of his mind still remembers that she told him this would last three days, but that's ludicrous, he's certain he's been feeling this for at least a month, maybe two, except he's also certain it has very much not been half a day yet and he's not sure he can take over two and a half more days of this.