Image prompt; untitled(Infected)

writeworld prompt

Source: veitstanz on tumblr

Her skin itches. The sensation is one the worst she has ever felt. That guy, he had come out of nowhere and tried to bite her but she managed to get away. His nails had dug into the tender flesh of her cheeks, left long red gashes on either side of her face that were now bleeding. She looks in the bathroom mirror and tries to clean them; lightly patting the painful open wounds with a rag.

What was wrong with that guy? She tries not to think about it. Why does her skin itch so badly? The scratches don’t hurt anymore so she decides to inspect them a little closer.

She leans forward until her nose is touching the cabinet mirror and carefully starts to feel the ragged, greying skin. She doesn’t feel her own touch. The itching is getting worse. Reluctantly, she starts to scratch her cheeks. The sensation is wonderful; like scratching a bug bite, it only makes her want to continue scratching, the itch seeming to go deeper into her skin.

Her skin is starting to tear, but the itch is still there, it’s just a little further; she’s convinced of this. Just a little further down in her skin and she’ll get to it. It feels so amazing, the feeling radiates through her, she’s almost got it, the itch is almost scratched. Her nails are covered in flesh and blood. They’re losing their effectiveness. She needs to get to the itch.

Her stomach starts to grumble. She’s so hungry and itchy. She can barely even see her own image in the mirror anymore. She pulls more of her own face off, dropping bits and pieces of bloodied tissue into her sink. The itch is starting to subside at last but now her hunger is getting worse. She looks down into the sink. Blood has already gotten into her mouth and it tastes fine enough. Moving her bloodied, gore covered hands into her mouth she absentmindedly chews on her own flesh. The hunger feels like it’s waning. She needs to find fresher flesh; hers has a rotten taste to it, why this is she doesn’t really care.

Her apartment door opens. Her boyfriend is home. She can almost smell him enter. He smells so fresh; her stomach growls.

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