She lays there, the world around her sweet and dream like.
The outlines of their bodies are blurred, blending in with the gray ashen sky above them and her mouth parts slowly, a puff of breath escaping into the cold air that does not touch her body. Her arms, her hands, her fingers, all suddenly so heavy - she is content to let them rest in the dead grass beneath.
They start at the opposite end of her body, her feet. The crack of her big toe fills the air and then it is gone, replaced with seeping hotness as she bleeds out. The rest of her toes follow crick crick crick crack tossed to the side in a bloody clump. They rip the arch of her foot in half, big claws easily moving through the tissue and bone. The pieces are twisted off from her ankle, a loud sharp sound and they are tossed into the pile of toes and she feels lighter, blood seeping out from her limb and into the ground. They do the same with the other foot, her eyes watching the pile grow, fleshy and wet and she feels pounds lighter.
Each one takes a calf snap snap snap and it collapses, skin tearing, stretched too taunt, too thin. They bend her knees, lifting the mutilated limb up and she can see the dark shapes of color forming under the layer of skin, leaking out, down her knees, her thighs. A weak trail of red makes its way to her stomach and the Majin rip through the remaining muscle of her legs, pierce and destroy the bone and unable to walk or move she is weightless, watching the pile of flesh, tissue, muscle, bone beside her grow bigger.
They speak to one another, garbles to her ears but then she turns her head down, chin pressed to her chest and she watches those long deadly nails slice a trail from the inside of her hip, up to her belly and shredded like parchment, she sees the slick insides of her organs, pink and yellowed and squelching. They empty her out, long strings of intestine pulled, dripping and juices landing on her chest, her face. Droplets fall on her mouth, sliding past her lips, onto her tongue.
They carve her, carve out her stomach and then her chest. At the absence of flesh and tissue, blood pools into a puddle at the hollow of her throat. The airy light headed feeling does not leave. The world has blurred beyond recognition, shapes losing distinction, sharpness lost in softness, the sky once high above her is all around her. Blood has been collecting in her mouth, filling the back of her throat and it leaks out in streams when they slash her cheeks, drain her and the last thing she can see is the sudden sharp edge of nail coming at her eyes, to empty her sockets at last.
She is free.