>>58925584Did you hear that, Cynthia?” Aldith crooned, her face likely pressed close to the scaled belly. “Admin Aldith. It has a nice ring to it. And all thanks to you. Or what’s left of you.” She laughed. “And your friend, the Kalos champion… Diantha? We’ve been watching her too. Her film schedule is so predictable. She likes to take lonely walks in the gardens of Coumarine City after dark. She’ll be next. I think my Seviper will find her very… digestible. You can keep each other company in here, in a way. A little champion slurry.”
Diantha… no… A fresh wave of despair drowned Cynthia. She was helpless to warn her, to save her. She was just the first domino to fall in a silent, horrific war.
Inside the stomach, the environment was changing. A new, pungent, acidic smell began to cut through the musk. A low, burning sensation started on her exposed skin—her face, her hands. She felt her coat, the sturdy fabric, begin to grow slick and heavy. It was dissolving. The acidic secretions were seeping through, attacking the material. Soon it was her pants, the fabric softening, sloughing away against the churning stomach walls. In what felt like minutes, she was reduced to the tattered scraps of her clothing and her delicate, now-soiled lingerie. The only things that seemed resistant were the cold metal of her sacred family necklace, pressing into her collarbone, and the hard points of her black hairpieces. These, she thought with a hysterical clarity, might be all they ever find of me.
Hours passed. The burning intensified, becoming a constant, itchy sting that promised worse to come. The muscles of the stomach kneaded her relentlessly, squeezing and releasing, working her form deeper into the digestive slurry that was beginning to pool around her. She was curled impossibly tight, every joint aching. She was thirsty, desperately thirsty, but the only moisture was the acidic goop coating her.
Outside, the light had faded to night.
