Written & edited by Amnoartist
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Note: Beneath Her Flesh is a dark horror-themed series with a focus on story and characterisation. Eroticism will likely play a part where appropriate for the plot's benefit and advancement or delving deeper into the characters themselves. There will be no sex just for the sake of it being there. The chaarcters that DO partake in sexual intercourse throughout this series are all aged 23 or older The themes in this series include but are not limited to: mystery/thriller; incest/incest pregnancy; autism; murder; cannibalism & gore. With this all taken into account, go in with a relatively open-mind and enjoy :)
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Despite its name, Summerstone Medical Institution was far from inviting. Frankly, most of its patients were highly dangerous individuals liable to kill out of some sort of twisted sexual impulse than submit to those thought to help them get better and live stable lives. The fact of the matter was, 'futility' was a word commonly heard in the establishment. The interior certainly didn't help things; plaster from the walls peeling away like skin from an onion, revealing the grimy insides, a patch of what could only be piss dried crudely in the middle of the floor. Kimberly didn't care for that though, casually reaching into her jumper pocket to pull out the packet of cigarettes she snuck in, clearly breaking the hospital's regulations. But then, Kimberly wasn't one for respecting the rules anyway.
The cigarette lit, she leaned back on the chair to ease herself into relaxation, trying to drown out the moans from further down the hallway, not to mention ignore the incessant stares from the patient opposite her. Kimberly hated it when people stared at her like there was something wrong as if they saw something she couldn't. Or maybe it was just the paranoia from all the drugs she took. Whatever the case, it always made her feel uneasy, and ironically, feel right at home in a place such as Summerstone. She didn't even know the place existed until yesterday, like her sister Ivy. Admittedly, Kimberly preferred it if she could forget all that happened yesterday and just stay at home, sell to her customers and inject herself into a high. But no, for some reason Kimberly was compelled to see the sibling she didn't even know existed, whether they were a mental case or not.
The clock struck nine. That meant she'd been waiting for a little over thirty minutes now and her most loyal customer would've been at her door ten minutes ago, probably rattling and desperate for another bag. Damn it, he'd just have to wait. The problem though, was that some serious competition for Kimberly was on the rise. Sure, she had the purest drugs at the cheapest price, but there was word on the street that this opposing supplier had new stuff like Blitz and Jinx. Those weren't easy to make, so whomever this rising peddler was, they clearly had someone working for them who knew that sort of stuff, which put Kimberly in a hard spot. To counter, she could put her prices down, thus selling more, but that didn't necessarily mean ends would meet.
Looking at the clock again, she sighed, irritation finally set in. Out of everything that would transpire out of the fateful first meeting with her younger sibling, Kimberly hoped it was just worth the wait.
Before long, a security guard peeked around the corner with a less-than-enthused expression, hard to determine whether it was born out of the collective depressive environment or Kimberly's clear lack of respect for the rules. "This way, please."
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Ivy blinked, the sun bursting through the blinds to pierce her eyes as she sat on the edge of the bed looking out to the characteristically dismal air of Black Peak, the mousy blonde only seeing as much as the T-junction directly outside the hospital, everywhere else nothing to her but grey-black smudges in the distance. Given she didn't remember much of Black Peak, Ivy wouldn't know where to go beyond the junction. Simply put, in as much of the fact it was a mental institution, she felt safe in Summerstone and it was her home. She even made friends there, as few in number as they were.
As the door leading into the private room creaked open, Ivy flinched. She hated loud noises. That plus the fact she rarely spoke, generally avoided eye contact and mostly kept to herself gave the Institution's doctors cause to diagnose her as autistic. Moaning, she rubbed her ear as Doctor King, a man well into his fifties entered, frowning at having to see Ivy physically cringe and curl up into a ball. Being one of the few friends she had, King and Ivy got along pretty well together.
"Sorry dear, I'll get one of the servicemen to look at that tomorrow." It was almost second-nature for King to sit at the chair in the corner, knowing Ivy liked her space. In the years they were together, King had come to understand Ivy better than any of the other doctors in the establishment. Be that as it may, he was always wary and never dropped his guard. Ivy didn't even bother to look at him, staring at the floor blindly. King didn't mind. His legs crossed, he smiled. "Your sister's waiting for you in the visitor's room."
Ivy turned to face the doctor as if to acknowledge him, if only for a moment before looking back out the window silent as a mute, having second doubts about the meeting she previously agreed to during her rare moments of communication. What would Kimberly think of her? Did she even know or care? Twiddling her thumbs, Ivy sighed.
"You're nervous, I know. I imagine Kimberly would feel the same, in a way, about to meet the sister she had no idea existed." King continued observing Ivy scratch her wrist nervously, not to mention look back again, this time long enough for him to look back at her piercing blue irises. "There's absolutely nothing to worry about."
Ivy shook her head. In as much of the fact it probably wouldn't be revealed verbally, the young woman had a different opinion in regards to the good doctor's statement. Had he forgotten what happened? Or did he choose to ignore it?
"What happened in the past was an accident. Bob forgave you for it. You're better now." King knew Ivy's attitude was shifting to something more positive. He could see it in her actions; she was less stiff, loosening out of the fetal position she threw herself into when the door creaked open. "If you're lucky, Kimberly may come with a gift."