Coding

WARNING: BODY HORROR

Coding was sick. There was something deeply, irreversibly wrong with it. Whatever it was, it was like a virus, pillaging their cells and rewiring their DNA. A rotten, festered tumour which slowly but surely grew inside of them and displaced their organs one by one. A sickness so deeply rooted and tangled up amongst themself that there was no hope of ever cutting the intrusion free. They didn’t think they’d always been like this, so how had such a thing happened? Coding could not remember. It could not even recall its own name.

Were they originally once a dragon of flesh and bone? Somebody with a family, a name, and a personality? Surely there had been. Surely there was a time before this illness took over and corrupted them. Or perhaps there hadn’t been. Maybe Coding was always intended for such a confusing and tumultuous life. Merely a morbid construct of meat and wires, nothing but an amalgamation to haunt these lands and terrify children. A monster. A nightmare. A pitiable, despicable little creature.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all. Living in such a state was bad enough, but at least the boil covered beasts roaming the plaguelands had some semblance of a life. In comparison, Coding’s mind had been erased, and alongside it, any chance of regaining normality.

Slates wiped clean and hard-drives rewritten, not even the doctors and healers Coding had consulted could help them. The copper coils, screws and wires sprouting up within their body had grown into their brain’s Hippocampus, mincing any ability to recollect memories. The worst part was that there could be other changes to their fundamental being that Coding didn’t even know about. Personality? Likes and dislikes? Fears? How much of it was still them? The brain held no nerves, so Coding could not feel which parts of their head had been reduced to slurry.

The rest of their body however… that certainly still felt things. Coding’s skin itched. All. The. Time. They would scratch, bite and rub, but nothing soothed it’s ache. There was just no penetrating the encasing of metal which crusted over Coding’s entirety like an insect’s carapace. Once, when the burn had been particularly maddening, Coding had wedged a bluntened knife beneath the glossy plating. Lever, and lever, and lever it up. The sensation had been excruciating, but the sight which greeted them beneath was worse than any physical pain.

Strands of flesh and connective tissue snapping as the metal plating separated and pried away. Screws and hypnotic wire mazes, all dancing about amongst globular, yellow pads of adipose. It had squirmed and writhed beneath Coding’s gaze, and as they had continued to watch on in muted horror, viscous black oil had spurted out of severed veins.

Coding had slammed the plating now forming their second skin back down firmly and refused to look again since. Sometimes, the bliss of denial was a far kinder mercy than reality. Besides, they weren’t even sure if those parts of their original self still remained, or if they had warped even more unrecognisably. Would there still be meat and muscle beneath, or would it all be inorganics by now?

Coding still bled. It could feel the sensations of a thrumming heart and writhing intestines, but it was all… wrong. Was it truly blood their body pumped, or oil? Did their liver still secrete bile, or were they filled with battery acids and engine grease? Coding had felt their eyes roll inwards, pushed into the skull as lens and optics bulged forth. With each step they took, they clinked and clunked audibly now.

Other dragons only turned gazes of pity or horror upon Coding these days. They couldn’t even blame them for it, not when the very same look of revulsion met them in reflections.

Surely the fact that their face was still capable of forming such a convincing expression of disgust was a good thing, right?

by @SealedSalt. Thank you so much!