Spiraling solo finished

Disclaimer| This solo is representative of the starting changes in Santario after being infected by the hag slug. It embodies many things that could be deemed as triggering to those with intrusive thoughts, panic/anxiety disorders, mental breakdowns, illusion of animal death, and others.

If this is something that you are sensitive to you may not want to read this solo or at the very least proceed with caution.

It all started four days ago, almost to the minute where Santario currently sat in the Prefect bathrooms. Only now, she was not granted the stalwart that once stood by her side, making her promises he had no way of knowing that he would never keep. Percival Gray could no longer offer her any comfort as her arms wrapped around her stomach, a parasitic churning making her feel ill. A moan emanated from her lips as if she were a lamenting banshee lost in a swamp. She had so far denied the slug what it wanted her will stronger than its, but she felt herself fading as the days went on, and she wasn’t sure how long she could still stay here. It had taken Erin years to become who Santario had known her to be, but she couldn’t help but wonder if Erin had started with babies and not a full-grown monstrosity. Her eyes closed as she battled another wave, her guts twisting and tormenting her reminding her of what was inside.

Minutes that felt like hours would pass as she remained curled up against the sink where she had finally won the battle. Her stomach seemed to settle, and as slowly as she could, Santario stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Only it wasn’t her looking back. Instead of sharp sapphire eyes, she was greeted with dull pallid blue framed by sallow skin and stringy flat black hair. She had always prided herself on taking care of herself, and now in just four days, she had become what could only be compared to a grease ball.

A hand lazily moved up, pushing at the skin on her cheek, wondering if she could provoke color to it, but what did show up did not make her appearance any better. Dirt had accumulated underneath her fingernails from an herbology lesson earlier in the week, but for the life of her, she hadn’t been able to clean it out.



Her head shook, knowing full well that it wasn’t the slug talking to her but her own imagination running amuck. The constant stream of nightmares and lack of sleep made it harder for her to keep focus on things already, and what followed was this. Her self-doubt crept into everything she did and the people around her. Reminding her of why she wasn’t good enough to be around them and, more importantly, what she would do to them in only seven months.

Her hand reached shakily forward, hovering over a bar of soap with hesitation. All she wanted was to wash her hands. Yet, it was as if a force was propelling her away from the soap. Her hand fell toward the sink, instead grasping the edge as she stared at herself. Rage starting to form like a hot coal in the pit of her stomach sending adrenaline through her system. “Just wash your damn hands.” She growled at the her that wasn’t her. One that seemed to stare back at her with defiance, somehow reading a smug look hiding just below the surface that seemed to feel nothing.



“I WILL NOT EAT VERMIN!” Santario exploded, her fingers wrapping tightly around the bar of soap, and before she could stop herself, it flew from her hand into the mirror, shattering the reflection of who she was becoming. She pushed away from the sink, shaking with the fury that boiled under her skin, gaining little to no relief from the shattered mirror or slamming the door open as she stomped down the hallway.



She stopped dead in her tracks in the corridors outside the classroom where it had all happened. She could still hear Erin’s feral cries and Percival’s voice screaming out in pain. Santario reached down and rubbed her right thigh, the spot where the slug had entered her body as she stared through the open doorway. She hadn’t been quick enough with her spells, and because of that, he had been severely injured not only by gaining his own slug but also by having Erin take a literal bite out of him. The room had been painted a deep carnelian, and eventually, all of them had lost consciousness. The battle had been lost.



“Shut up!” Santario hissed, her mind not speaking absolute falsehoods even if it was warping them to fit her abandoned narrative. Thomas had not come back to school and might not ever come back. They had been distant for the better part of a year because of what happened last Halloween, something he had never bothered to apologize for…



“No, you do not get to say his name!” Tears pricked her eyes as she started to run. Down and down, she would continue to spiral, knowing only that at one point, she had passed where she usually would have gone to go to the common room. Choked sobs echoed off of the dungeon walls as she tore through them, her foot catching on a stone, sending her sprawling to the ground with a shriek.

Her back against the wall body twisted in an unnatural, almost unnerving way. If anyone had come across her, though they wouldn’t, they might have thought she was dead. Her breathing was shallow as she stared into the darkness, tears streaming over the bridge of her nose and dropping onto the cold floor. She wasn’t dead; she would walk away from this with cuts and scrapes as soon as she got the wind back that was knocked out of her.

Movement caught her eye down the basement hallway, and she slowly unfolded herself into an upright position. Her cherrywood wand slowly drew from her pocket, knowing that the only things that moved down here were the darkness and the rats. A breath she had not known she was holding would be released when she heard the little squeaks of a rat foraging, but her blood ran cold when the creature's sound caused a stirring in her belly. “Immobulus.” Her spell struck the poor little critter as she crawled towards it.



Making it to the defenseless rat, she set her wand down and picked it up in both hands, holding it gently in front of her face as more tears made their way down her cheeks. She moved the rat closer to her mouth as the spell broke, and it squeaked in terror. “I am so sorry…” She whispered to the creature.