FULL CHAPTER HERE —> GREG VS RAID 9-47

It was still going.

That was the part she could barely wrap her head around, even with her hands wrapped around it. It just kept on pounding in her grip, working in her hands even with the front of her big brother opened up. His liver sitting in a bucket and several of the hooks pulling his thorax apart wider, the ba-dum ba-dum kept on with walls thick and muscles weirdly dense under her fingers like someone had packed the flesh tight with a spoon.

Blue eyes stayed right on it, Bonesaw giving it another light squeeze and the bloody muscle squeezed back harder. Neat-o…

Even more so was the fact that the tissue was actively creeping in on her, fleshy membranes trying to close in around her digits like a fist of its own. So stubborn.

She’d taken so much out of him already and yet his body was somehow still managing to do all of this. Bonesaw could only wonder about his coronary arteries and their sheer defiance when he moved again.

“Oh! Did you just move?” She’d already seen the fingers start up, something to get her excited about. “Whoa! You did!” It was almost expected, given the rate of his recovery. “Can you do it again?”

What wasn’t expected was for the strap to come apart, or the whole top half of him to rear off the table with his insides still exposed, or for that hand to close in on her throat before she could even let go of his heart.

It was a big hand, enough to go all the way around her neck. Before Bonesaw could do more than breathe in, eyes going wide, something warm went into her neck. “Oh?”

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> GREG VS RAID 9-47