Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

He was wrangling the rabbit as carefully as possible when Eleven arrived. He shrugged at her apology. "It's alright, it'll work. I think. It's a rabbit." Hopefully it would work, his claws were basically as big as the poor thing. Would that make it easier or harder?

He carefully grabbed the thing and turned it over on the ground. Unlike Eleven, the panicked screeching and squealing was doing something ugly to the Gravedigger, a dark, hot excitement growing in his belly, ready to feed itself on the coming blood and gore.

So, perhaps he was a little too excited when he said "I'll start from the inside," and then dove right in. One foot held the rabbit down, hooking a claw into its lower jaw to hold it open as the other moved to reach a singly massive talon down its throat. Things instantly began to go wrong as the claw shredded the soft and fragile inner tissue of the rabbits body. Blood immediately gushed from the wounds he accidentally carved and he immediately lost confidence. Further slipping his way deeper into its body, the claw continued to graze and tear as blood poured from the very quickly dying lesser that was now convulsing in its last moments.

Panicking a bit from the poor job he was doing, he pushed his claw in suddenly deeper, but that only succeeded in pushing it off course, where it pierced right through the upper part of whatever mangled part of its inner body it was in and stabbed right out through the skin.

The Gravedigger stared. "Uh. Oops." He tried to pull back, but it shredded open the hole further, horrible snapping noises following the breaking spine and ribs as he messily wrenched his claw free from the rabbit, leaving the body broken and mangled in front of them, the grass (and Gravedigger's entire leg) covered in blood.

"Uh." He looked up at Eleven, almost a little sheepish. "I don't think I did it right."

Content Warning
This post contains potentially sensitive material:

gore

like a LOT of gore

Eleven's attempts on the rabbit went about as good as the Gravedigger's and he stared at the absolutely brutalized rabbit with an unreadable expression. He felt like he should be grossed out by this at the very least but he really didn't feel anything significant as he looked at it. Just mild frustration that they'd failed so spectacularly.

Unfortunately, he was not made to be a quitter. They'd already caught this rabbit, they'd already started, and he was determined to finish it, even if the corpse was mangled beyond belief. There was still a body under there and its guts were still under the flesh.

Without voicing that he was going to do anything, the Gravedigger went right back in, less delicate and more...forceful this time, using one claw to hold it steady as the other claw speared forward right into its mouth. There were some horrendous ripping and squelching noises as he no longer made any attempt to save the guts that were in the body, aiming just for the other end of the poor creature. He felt his claw graze the end and hooked it out through the skin of the hindquarters and over the tailbone.

He got a good grip, braced himself, and then ripped back. It wasn't perfectly clean (or, really, clean at all) but the rabbit did in fact begin to go "inside out" as he literally ripped the back of its body through and up its throat. The jaw was completely broken and unhinged at this point so as the back of the body began to push forward, its guts began to spill out onto the already blood-soaked grass beneath it until the last tear and the Gravedigger managed to get at least part of its tailbone successfully out. It wasn't perfectly "inside out", while the jaw had been fully ripped off at this point to make room for...all of that, there still wouldn't be room for all four legs to completely go through the whole body. But it was something.

The mangled and no completely unrecognizable mess that had once been a rabbit flopped on the ground as the Gravedigger released it. He was oddly unperturbed by the horrific mess it had just made, just looking curiously at it and a little...disappointed? "Okay its...not all the way inside out but I think I got it okay? I don't think it would be very useful to try this in combat."

Gravedigger, too, began to carefully clean the blood from his claws. He eyed the mess, wondering if they should eat it so that it didn't go to waste, but something about this wasn't...appealing as a meal. Maybe because all the insides were now on the outside. That shouldn't make a difference but unfortunately it kind of did.

"I don't know if I'll really do it. But it was cool to try." Was cool the word? It was certainly something that they did. The thought of it had felt exciting in the lead-up and corruption further boiled his blood for the violence, but now that it was over and he was settling back into contentedness, he wondered...was that necessary?

It felt like a waste.

He stopped cleaning his claws for a moment and stared at the gore pile. Was that what things were going to be like? Destruction was fun, but did he have to rip peoples' guts out and turn them inside out and paint the stones and grasses and sky with blood?

"You met Miss Aethril." His mouth started making words without his brain's consent. "Do you think she would expect this kind of thing from me? From the impression you got of her."

Gravedigger shrugged. "I know its Dhracia taking me but they're...similar, right? Valkhands or whatever. I don't know if I like violence." It kind of dropped from him before he could stop himself and for a moment he wondered if he should have said that. Or if it was even true. It wasn't that he was finding that he didn't like the act of violence, but it had always seemed...like business. Spars and training and getting him stronger felt like day to day 9-5 work hours. But this, what he was looking at now, mangled and red and gross and dead was a lot different from that. He tried to imagine that all around him. It was not a pleasant thought.

"I mean I. Don't hate it. It's whatever. But maybe not like this. I don't know. I don't know what it'll be like." He sighed, for the first time feeling an aversion to his future. "Not that it matters." He'll be going either way.

He snorted, briefly amused. That was true. She was right. "Yeah I guess. I can do whatever I want up there. I mean I guess there will be an expectation for destruction - that's pretty fun. But no more Vargas to boss me around." No more burden, no more fear of failure just...fear of death.

Wait...I'm going to die up there. The thought came sudden, like electricity suddenly thundering through his body. There was a very sudden, very violent shift in his perspective in that moment that came out of nowhere. It was easy not to think about it now because he had a future - in just a couple of cycles, his training would be done and he would go the surface. That was the plan. But after that...just open days of violence and destruction and chaos and eventual death.

I'm not coming back. He already knew this, of course but he didn't really realize it until now. It hadn't fully sunk in. But now as he looked around Pegasus and at Eleven, he wondered if he was going to miss it. Draco, surely not, with its lights both too dim and too bright, with malevolent eyes glinting from every corner. Pegasus maybe, but he would see more incredible sights on the surface (hopefully). But...he would miss her. Right? He doubted he would be making any friends out there. He wouldn't forget her, would he? Would she forget him? They were children and she might have a long future ahead of her. Not like him. He wondered how long he was going to last.

He didn't say anything about it, but ended up just kind of staring at Eleven, oddly quiet.

He blinked, coming to a little bit as he realized he'd been staring. "Uh yeah, just thinking. I wonder how much time I'll have between the destroying." Nobody had really explained it to him, huh? What life was gonna be like out there. If he was expected to destroy 24/7, if he would be doing it alone or with others. Was he expected to fight and rampage until he died? What if he got tired? Hungry? Injured? These things hadn't been explained to him.

He didn't want it to come out - he wasn't supposed to be this sentimental about things. He had a job to do, a purpose outlined since hatch, and yet...

"Will you forget me?" It fell from him like sand through an open palm, futile to hold in. He looked away, embarrassed by the possible vulnerability, but at least he'd said it without physically looking emotional - a moment later he looked at her curiously, as if it were a casual thing to ask. Underneath there was brimming a lot...more, but he didn't let it out. He didn't know if he could.