Devouring Tiles & Digested Traces

"......"

When she opened her eyes, the world was far too bright, and far too still. White fluorescent light poured down from overhead, driving needles into her optic nerves. Na-bi winced and lifted a hand to block it. Dried blood and grease, caked across the back of her hand, were the first things she saw.

She was alive. Even through that hell of pain — even after packing her guts with industrial trash in that last, desperate hour — her breath had held.

"Nnngh......"

Na-bi groaned and pushed her upper body off the floor. She felt heavy as lead. Every joint in her creaked like rusted machinery. And yet something was strange. The sharp, savage agony that had been gnawing her soul down to the moment she blacked out — viscera tearing, womb turning inside out — was gone. In its place sat only a hollow emptiness, and a dull, throbbing afterpain.

The curse of Indomitable. Even while she had lain unconscious, her flesh would have been working without rest, knitting torn muscle and sealing ruptured vessels. The vaginal opening and cervix, left in tatters from dragging out the dildo, had been forced shut and healed. The sting was still there, but at least the terror of her organs spilling out of her had passed.

"So thirsty......"

Survival instinct demanded water first. Her mouth was so parched her tongue had glued itself to the roof of it. Her throat was swollen from the plastic cocks the mannequins had rammed down it, and even swallowing saliva hurt.

Na-bi staggered to her feet. Her legs wouldn't take her weight, so she caught herself on the checkout counter and held on until the shaking eased. She lurched toward the refrigerated case and pulled the glass door open. Cold air washed over her. That chill alone felt like it could keep her alive. She grabbed the first two-liter bottle her hand found, twisted off the cap, and drank in long, desperate gulps without even setting her lips to the rim.

Gulp. Gulp.

"Pwah......!"

Cold water slid down her swollen esophagus and killed the heat. The slosh of liquid in her stomach felt alien. Into a belly that until moments ago had been packed with shards of plastic, something a human being could actually consume had finally gone in. The water woke a ferocious hunger. A stomach that hadn't had a real meal in days screamed for more.

Na-bi tore through the shelves in a frenzy. Triangle kimbap, sandwiches, packaged bread. Expiration dates didn't matter. She ripped the plastic with her teeth and shoved whatever she could reach ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠into her mouth, swallowing a mayonnaise-smeared rice triangle without chewing. Even when it caught in her throat, she didn't stop. She ate like a starving animal. The cellular-level scream to stay alive, right now, ruled her more completely than any remaining scrap of human dignity.

"Nngh, mmph... gulp..."

Only after a meal that amounted to a binge did she collapse onto the floor, gasping. The cold press of the checkout counter against her back restored a sense of the real.

Now, at last, she could see where she was. A convenience store. A familiar space packed with human things, and safe. Beyond the glass doors lay pitch-black darkness, but in here, at least, the white lights stood watch over a sanctuary.

"Haa... I made it..."

Na-bi hugged her knees and let out a long breath of relief.

Then her gaze snagged on a scrap of old paper sitting in the corner of the counter. A faded map, its edges ragged as if someone had torn it free in a hurry.

"This is......"

She picked it up with trembling hands. A crude sketch in red pen. Centered on her current location, with other zones marked to either side, and over the store itself a circle drawn again and again, a note inked beside it in a small, urgent hand.

"A Safety Zone...... it was real......"

The sigh that broke from Na-bi's lips was pure relief. My instincts weren't wrong. This place really was safe. Someone had been here before her, and the record they'd left proved it. The tension drained out of her all at once, and her legs gave. She sank into the chair behind the register.

Relief opened a door, and every sensation she had been holding down stirred awake. Fullness. Drowsiness. And... a strange heat. Perhaps because Indomitable's hyper-regeneration had only just finished its work, her nerves were stripped raw. The vaginal opening that had been wrecked pulling out the dildo throbbed and itched at once. The clitoris she'd been forced to work earlier was still swollen; the mere brush of fabric sent a spark through her.

"Haa......"

Na-bi looked down between her own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠legs with unfocused eyes. The certainty of safety let the impulse she'd been choking back lift its head. She wanted to check. Whether this body is still mine. Whether it's living flesh that can feel pleasure — not just pain. Slowly, she climbed onto the checkout counter and sat. The cold faux-marble surface touched the skin of her thighs.

"Hnn......"

She spread her legs into an M and brought her fingers to the wet cleft. It stung a little from being stirred with tweezers, but even that sting became a peculiar kind of stimulus. She eased her index finger into the opening. Warm. Slick. The space where the dildo had been felt hollowed-out and empty. She crooked her finger, mapping the vacancy.

"Ah, nngh... that's good..."

Touching herself of her own will was different. A comfort the mannequins' forced hands could never have given her. Na-bi closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Her fingers moved faster. Squish. Squish. Wet, obscene sounds filled the silent store. Her thumb pressed harder against her clitoris. A shiver ran the length of her spine.

"I'm... I'm gonna come... nngh!"

Her hips jerked. Inner walls clamped down on her finger. The first orgasm — short, but vicious. It wasn't enough. She needed something deeper. A thirst that wouldn't quit. She folded forward, crushing her breasts against the counter's edge, and shifted into a prone straddle — doggy style, grinding down.

The right-angled lip of the counter dug hard between her perineum and clitoris. Na-bi rolled her hips and dragged her most intimate flesh along that edge.

"Aahn! Ah! Hngh! That's it......"

Every time the hard corner crushed that hypersensitive place, her mind went white. Bestial sounds tore out of her. Inside the convenience store there was nothing but Na-bi's ragged breathing and the wet slap of skin on laminate. Liberation, a full belly, and the raw animal joy of still being alive — all of it detonated into a single, explosive act of masturbation.

"Coming! Aaaah! Nngaaaah!"

She gripped the counter and convulsed. Her thighs shuddered; fluid gushed from her and soaked the countertop. Pleasure like a fuse blowing in her skull. She stayed like that for a long time, slumped forward, riding the aftershocks.

"Haa... haa..."

How much time had passed? Na-bi slowly pushed herself up. Her whole body was tacky with sweat and her own slick. Then the high receded, and she felt filthy. She needed to clean up. She looked around for something to wipe with.

"Tissues... wet wipes..."

Rummaging under the counter, her gaze dropped to the floor. And stopped.

"......Huh?"

Her brow furrowed. Something was wrong.

The spot ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where she sat was in front of the grocery section. A few hours ago — no, right up until the moment she'd lost consciousness — this stretch of floor had been a vision of hell. Where she had dumped cooking oil. Where she had extracted broken plastic with tweezers and flung the shards aside. Where she had poured out blood and urine and slime she couldn't name. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And, most of all, the exact place she had ripped free the massive black dildo buried deep in her womb and thrown it down.

The floor that should have been a disaster was, somehow, in order.

Not clean. The black dildo still lay there, and the plastic fragments she'd pulled out of herself were still scattered around it. But the liquid was gone.

"The blood...... where did it all go?"

Na-bi dropped to her hands and knees and checked. When she'd dragged that thing out of herself, red blood had gushed and soaked the tiles. She'd dumped nearly two liters of cooking oil on top of that — the floor should have been a skating rink. The urine stain should have spread in a wide, ugly pool.

Now the floor was merely sticky. There were no puddles. As if someone had run a mop over it. Or as if the floor itself had drunk everything down.

She rubbed a tile with her fingertip.

Squelch. Squelch.

It was drying. This was not air-drying. Cooking oil did not dry that fast. Blood did not vanish without a trace. Her eyes went to the grout between the white square tiles.

Cement that should have been gray was soaked a dark, venous red-black. Like blood vessels.

"No way......"

Gooseflesh raced up her arms and she scrambled backward. The floor seemed to be breathing. Looking closer, the grout in the gaps was contracting and expanding in minute, rhythmic pulses. Her blood, her mucus, her urine, even the cooking oil splattered across the tiles — every organic liquid was seeping into the cracks.

It wasn't evaporating. It was being absorbed.

"What... is this..."

Na-bi stared blankly at the black dildo on the floor. The blood and scraps of flesh stuck to its plastic surface were disappearing too, starting from the side that touched the tile. The floor couldn't swallow the dildo itself. It was sucking the nutrients off it, sip by sip.

The convenience store was not cleaning. It was feeding.

"Ugh......"

She got up fast, climbed back onto the checkout counter, and pulled her feet off the ground. She did not want them on that floor. The white tiles felt like the inner wall of a giant stomach. An ugly certainty crawled up her spine: this space itself was alive, breathing, and it had been eating the fluids she'd spilled.

A Safety Zone? A place monsters couldn't enter? Maybe it wasn't that they couldn't come in. Maybe this space was a higher-order predator, and the other beasts simply knew better than to cross into its territory.

"Is this place... actually safe?"

Na-bi swept the interior with uneasy eyes. The merchandise was fine. Snacks, drinks, bandages — all still on their shelves. But the air was different. Not the mechanical cold she'd felt when she first stepped inside. Humid. Tacky. Subtly warm... the warmth of a living creature's belly.

Hummm. Hummm.

The refrigerator's drone now sounded like a giant beast rumbling as it digested. Na-bi wrapped her arms around herself and shook.

Around the scattered plastic fragments, the tiles had changed color, just slightly. Not white anymore — a pale, pinkish flesh-tone. Like skin that had drunk the blood she'd spilled and taken on a flush of life.

She understood it in her bones. She could not stay here too long. Once the wounds closed and her strength came back, she might have to leave this place at once.

But outside was darkness boiling with mannequins. Inside was a man-eating convenience store that drank blood. Caught between the two, Na-bi huddled deeper into the corner of the counter.

Then her gaze locked on a spot in the far corner of the floor — the place where she had bled the most, pulling the dildo out of herself. From the gaps in the tiles there, a sticky, transparent liquid was bubbling up. Digestive fluid? Saliva?

The liquid was dissolving the last of the bloodstains, spreading slowly, so slowly. As if wiping them away. As if erasing the traces. Or as if setting the table for whatever it planned to eat next.

Na-bi clamped a hand over her mouth and swallowed the sound that tried to come out. This was no sanctuary. It was another kind of digestive organ, and it was slowly closing in.