As would be expected, she had her assumptions of the fact and fictions regarding ghosts down in this pit of despair and effluvium. Ghosts were real, after all. And they were usually super annoying, wailing, clingy idiots who never wanted you to leave once they knew you could see them. They always had some ‘unfinished business’, which was something that usually made no fucking sense. Like, why does it matter if your boyfriend didn’t get to hear one last I love you, especially, since he moved on so quickly to your sister? Claudia was reminded of her sire while thinking of how annoying ghosts were, and yes, she was reminded that at the very least, her sire knowing Garnet’s had given her a forever-friend. Someone less likely to end up like the one down here, sprawled in a crumpled daze of definite, unblessed death. In dripping strings, gnawed sinews and boiled-white bone, dangling scraps, and violet, bruise-broken, coagulated pieces.
A watery vignette of mayhem came into the fluorescent flutter, into slimy, gleaming focus. A blurry smudge of paled, bloated slices and serrated flesh was heaped into a free-standing, lion-footed bathtub. Claudia did not traipse to the death-pile just yet, rather she roosted her knuckles onto the jots of her hipbones, leveled her chin upward. She even took the time to appreciate the vintage bathtub from afar, before focusing on the horror at hand. Being in the habit of making a dark mood lighter with her devil-may-care attitude, she said, “Ouch. I think it's safe to assume this probably hurt a lot.”
An eyeball, sightless, the other a tattered smithereens, no longer its twin. Flesh was inflamed, cyanic, riven, skeleton and skull exposed, but the scalp intact. The face, somewhat recognizable. It was obvious by the look of it that many of the injuries occurred before this unfortunate soul actually perished. And then it hits her. “Dick! Fuckshit! Isn’t this that missing ghoul?”