Private Finished The Last Thing I Want to Do

Hella allowed herself to be tackled to the floor, throwing her arms around Aura and holding her head close to her chest. Just laying there for a moment and letting herself be in this moment. "Aura... I love you and I've missed you so much. You can't imagine how I've been worried. Just like I can't imagine what you've been going through."

She caressed her girlfriend's hair, her stuffies standing off to the side like obedient little servants and looking away to give the couple a semblance of privacy.

"You know why I'm here, right?" Hella's voice quivered a bit, and she tightened her grip a bit on Aura trying to comfort her.

And that was all Hella needed. As she backed away and stood up, the blood in the bags seeped out and formed into ropes that began to snak around Aura's limbs. "I'm going to help you, Aura. I promise I am. But I'm going to need you to stay still and not hurt yourself. Okay? I-"

She smoothed her hair back, tying it into a knot to keep it out of her face rather than bother with a hair tie. And the discomfort gave her clarity, in a way. "I'm going to have to hurt you to help you. I... I'll understand if you hate me afterward..."

The blood kept flowing, pulling Aura to the floor even as she protested against the restraints. Hella had a strong suspicion that they wouldn't hold for long when the transformation started. And it hurt her immensely to have to bind her like that in the first place.

As she moved closer, Hella brought the key out of her pocket, her eyes falling on the power bracelet. "Aura, I'm going to take the bracelet off alright? And then... we're going to fix you."

Despite Aura's struggling, Hella unlocked the bracelet and stood back almost immediately. she couldn't be sure that the transformation wouldn't begin the second it was off, but she could guess.

Behind her, her stuffies began setting up the things that they would need. Drawing an Elder sign on the walls, door, and a spot on the floor that could be used as a respite if things got bad. Hella pulled a bit of the blood to herself, pulling anything that might be an impurity out and turning it into a dark red scalpel, etched with the same symbol that her stuffies were painting on the walls.

She could do this. She had done far, far worse things for less altruistic reasons. This shouldn't be anything, right?

Hella steeled herself and realized that she would need more than a scalpel for this. More blood rushed into her hand, forming a large, almost cruel-looking cleaver in her grip. It still bore the offending Elder Sign as she lashed out at one of the tendrils, slicing into it with surprising accuracy given the savagery of her swing.

She needed to know if this would work.

It would work. She could do this. Hella tightened her grip on the cleaver and moved in closer. She just reminded herself constantly, with each cut, that nothing she was removing was her girlfriend. She tuned out the screeches and howls, letting her mind think about the ceaseless pattering of rain instead. Rain through tree branches, the distant rolling of thunder, the twittering of birds in their nests.

If she could just sever enough of the tendrils. Get to the core, where she could be more precise. More careful. That was all she needed. So Hella advanced with each cut, brandishing the knife the way a priest would a crucifix. Hoping that it would keep the tendrils at bay as she closed the distance between them.