Half-a-face, half-life

{This para-post is part of the "Fox Tales" contest no. 26. Click here to see it... Today's music-aide: "Low" (Entropy: Zero OST).}

Image done by @vermillionfox

- Half-a-face, half-life -

She felt... fractured, no matter how hard she stared at her reflection - something torn inside of her, the mind's melting and going low. It ain't corruption, yet the withering is very real - she had to stop it from tearing her apart. Dust landed on her fingers, she mushed her fingers deeper into her left cheek - now she's gonna pay for not curing it. A cloak ran over her as to hide her hideousness - no one but her can help herself. Armed with a pistol and a knife, justifying that 'twas to keep the curious in check - spite runs deep, especially when withering. High and low she searched the alleyways for the vendor - peckneck's smile always shook her, but they had the goods. Yet a small smearing appeared on the doorway, an ashen-black and red hand-print - she's too late, SHE'S TOO LATE! She creaked the door a bit, vendor's alive and breathing well - bless the vendor, the withers deserved it. Cash waived in her hands and the vendor saw that very clearly, going to the back to retrieve the vials - peckneck better bring it soon, I'm nearing the point of no return. The commodities exchanged, the vendor smirked and she slurped away - and soon I'll hide once again despite playing well this time, I'll try better next time... A sigh was released and she returned back home smiling while looking fresher than ever, a close call if there ever was one.