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His skin itches .
As Belos moves his body, his arms, his cheeks and his head now covered in horrific green sludge, the very sludge that Hunter had seen hours prior, the sludge of his uncle’s horrid corpse that was now…now inside of him, he felt the ache and creak of each movement.
His arms were longer now, more monster-like. Like claws, claws that were reaching out to hurt his friends and no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t take control and his body feels like it’s burning. He feels like Belos is lighting fires under his skin, and he wants to take the horrendous claws that Belos is creating out of him and claw at his own skin.
At least if he claws at himself, he can’t hurt his friends.
He wants to scream. He wants to throw up. He’s a fool. He should’ve known that Belos was always in the background, watching, waiting to strike, waiting to hurt Hunter again, because that’s all he does, he hurts and hurts and hurts and he never makes it stop .
Get out of my head, get out of my head, get out of my head-
The sludge on his skin burns, it burns and it’s like Belos is a raging fire and Hunter is stuck in it, and he just wants out, he wants out, out, out, out, out, out-
His arms are twisted and pulled to the ground, and his mouth furrows in a grimace. It hurts, his face burns with the unnatural looks he’s giving his friends, the look of a monster trying to kill its enemy, but his friends aren’t his enemy and he knows this and he doesn’t want to fight them, he doesn’t, he doesn’t-
Get out, get out, get out! He screams at Belos, but Belos ignores him. He doesn’t care, he never cared and he never will so why does he have to keep crawling back if he doesn’t give a shit about Hunter? Why can’t he just leave him alone?
He watches Vee as she tries to consume the magic coated all over him, the magic of the melted form of Belos, and for a moment, it’s relief, and it’s cooling, until it’s gone and the fire burns once more. Vee is thrown back, and his friends are knocked out of the air.
He hurt them, he hurt them, it burns, it burns, let him out, let him out-
Luz’s arms wrap around him, and she squeezes as tight as she can manage. Her words are a blurred mess, but he hears his name. He feels his arms contort as the burning feeling swells through his muscles, and then he watches as he throws her across the broken bridge.
Flapjack starts pecking at him, and his eyes wander to his palisman. His first ever friend.
Flapjack, no, you need to get out of here, go-
His hand aches as he swiftly finds himself clasping his palisman tightly.
It burns, it burns, he can’t do this, please, please, please, please-
He hears the sound of a crack, and watches as his hand, his hand, his hand, goes right through Flapjack.
He has to stop this, he has to, he has to.
Grabbing his own hand, he squeezes it and pulls back with all the strength he can muster, and Flapjack is let go.
The fire seems to go bigger at this, and he knows Belos is fighting back, he knows by the way his skin bubbles with each movement, the way his throat aches with the harshness Belos speaks with, he knows he doesn’t have long, and so he fights and fights and fights.
He grabs his own hand, he grabs the flask, he tells Belos what he wants, because he’s sick and tired of him never listening, of him not allowing Hunter to just be a teen, and he throws the blood into the water.
Then it’s gone, and the fire engulfs him one last time as he dives into the water. As the burning feeling gives into the cold, Hunter realizes that…this might be it.
Destiny is funny that way, you’re created with an intention, and no matter how hard you try to escape it, you always get dragged back into it.
For Hunter, he was created as a tool. A puppet. Something to be used, and then thrown away. He was made to serve Belos, and when he messed up, when he failed enough times, he’d be killed.
He tried to escape his fate, his friends gave him a way out, months of happiness and hugs and kindness and the taste of a real life . Belos never left, and he just had to drag Hunter back into his fate. He just had to take everything away.
Now, even though the fire had left, yet the sludge still clings to him, he knew he was gonna die. He was gonna die without getting a happy ending, he was gonna die being Belos’ tool, he was gonna die with this monster of a being in his body, he was gonna die never getting to say goodbye, never getting to tell his friends how much he cared for them.
He was gonna die never knowing who he truly was.
The water is cold, and it fills up his lungs fast. Belos doesn’t bother to choke it out, he doesn’t bother to fight the fear of drowning. Maybe Belos won’t die after this. Maybe he’ll just leave, and he’ll take everything else away from Hunter.
Was Hunter really always this expendable?
I’m sorry. He wants to say, but he doesn’t get to. He doesn’t get to say a word.
His eyes slowly flutter close, and the burns on his skin stay. Instead of the scorching fire engulfing him, he lets the cold water wash him away.
When he wakes up, his body is coated with fresh scars that bump and lace his skin. He sees the light fill the sky, and when his friends try to tell him that…that Flapjack is….he stops them from saying it.
His tears are warm.
His body still burns.
He’ll use this flame for something else.
He’ll use it to defeat Belos, to show him that Hunter isn’t something to be used, that he doesn’t need to face his “fate”.
He has to do this.
For…For Flapjack.