It’s often said that certain deaths are painless. That they happen “instantly”. That the person feels nothing, the damage is too great in too short a time and their brain, the seat of the mind, is incapable of informing them of the horror that their physical form is being exposed to. Many would think that about beautiful Rebecca as her body impacted the concrete below. They would be wrong. For Rebecca, the poor thing, the definition of a moment, of an instance, mattered so much. As her head slammed at near terminal velocity into the grey walkway, as her skull flattened, snapped, crushed to dust and brain began to pulp, there was a single moment, a single unit of Planck time, in which every surviving neuron up until that point worked dilligently, desperately, to communicate to Rebecca, to form the thought in her mind “I’m dying. My head is exploding like a melon onto the sidewalk,” and every nerve that still functioned threw a single wave of pain through her body. Every atom, every proton, neutron, and quark had their wavefunction collapse into the exactly correct position to enable a single, quantifiable moment of time in which Rebecca was fully aware that she would not exist in the next proceeding moment. That she was in her last remaining moment of her life; of her violent, gruesome death that she had chosen for herself. If, as some speculate, time is an illusion, a simple way for human minds to understand one great tapestry that is the static four-dimensional tapestry that is the universe, that moment will last forever. It is eternal, constant, forever present. Rebecca will always be there. Full of pain, regret and terror. Her head split halfway open. Her naked, motherly figuring collapsing pitifully into a nonhuman mess as her eyes stare up at several nearby tourists watching her die. Watching those same eyes explode out of their sockets right before the optic nerves are ripped from her skull. That is her hell. One of many. Located several months past a few other countless, although not incalculable, Rebecca’s heavens.
Then she was gone, her head liquifying in a wave of red that splattered onto nearby passersby who would spend the next several minutes screaming, crying, calling for help, and staring down at the beautiful corpse that lay there now. Twitching, it tried so hard not to die across every cell in its makeup. But it was too late. Rebecca, the girl, the mother, the woman, the human being, the consciousness, was gone. All that remained was this wet, flopping, dripping, beautiful object, breasts flopping with its violent spasms as grey matter leaked out onto the street with blood, its one intact eyeball several feet away where it was in severe danger of being crushed by the running footsteps of police. It convulsed there awkwardly for a few minutes, arguably mostly intact from the shoulders down.
The thing, and that’s exactly what it was now, had absorbed most of the force of the impact through the skull and spine. Its soft tongue dangled by a thread of tissue from its jaw, which only remained attached the torso because it was compacted significantly into where the neck should have been, which was itself now buried between the two shoulders, the spine compressed to the point where it bulged horrifically midway down the body at a point where it tore through the skin shortly above the buttocks and was visibly and bloodily protruding from the corpse. The thing’s soft and pleasantly rounded belly had burst internally, and showed signs of threatening to do so externally as well. A nasty dark substance was trickling from the navel as as flowing freely from the anus. It wasn’t feces, although that may have been part of its composition. The bladder somehow survived the fall well enough to allow it to empty, squirting with surprising force at short intervals with the final desperate bears of a dying heart and two thick streams of blood out of the neck. To more than one nearby observer, the loud sound of liquid splattering in repeated bursts out of either end of the thing, and the ropelike appearance of both as they stretched out over several feet, was not unsimilar to an ejaculation. A climax to a degree unknown to any mind, but expressed now by an unthinking corpse.
The young man from the balcony above arrived shortly before the police did. As he pushed through the crowd, tears streamed down his face. This was his fault. He said nothing. Did she do this because of him? No, he couldn’t be blamed for- he finally saw her. No. It. His cock throbbed against his jeans and he bent over to wretch. When he could breathe again he looked up and saw its tongue, which had spoken to him only minutes before, had finally writhed free from that last thread and somehow had the energy left in the muscle to curl one last time on the pavement before it stopped moving. An intrusive thought wormed its way into his head. He imagined that tongue in his mouth, first while it had been in the girls mouth, and then quickly after as it was now. He imagined picking it up, with nobody else there, and wrapping his own tongue around it, staring down at the thing still flopping and pouring fluid out every orifice before-
The police arrived, shoving him and several others out of the way and barking orders nobody was listening to, everyone who was still at the site of impact trying to keep eyes on the grotesque scene. He didn’t have much time to react, however, before one of the police officers, who had turned around and was trying to wave and shout bystanders away from the scene, accidentally backed into the corpse and tripped over it, his boot impacting the swollen and damaged belly of the thing as he fell backward over it. The force was too great for what was left. The remaining bystanders screamed and collectively took several hurried steps back as what used to be Rebecca’s beautiful stomach tore open and released it’s colorful contents onto the pavement. Length of intestine, which was visibly ripped in multiple places, unfurled out across several feet, pressure having apparently built within the rancid container that was the corpse’s stomach cavity. The stomach itself followed, ripped open and spilling forth acid, along with half-digested food, that immediately began to eat away at the visceral it splashed onto. The corpse was quickly beginning to become unrecognizable as something that had been a woman. The young man felt something squish underneath his foot as he staggered back, almost tripping over it, and with his cock still buldging to a degree where he feared someone may notice, he lifted his foot to reveal the surviving eyeball flattened and burst under his shoe.
Later, when he was done drying his tears, when he was done explaining to the police what he had seen, when he was done trying to understand why he had seen what he did, the young man from the balcony found warmth, solace, beauty once again in the privacy of his own shower, stroking himself and imagining that single moment, that unit of Planck time, in which he imagined Rebecca knew her fate. Shame washed over him but so did the burning hear of the water, rinsing away each pang of guilt with a searing wave of purity over his skin. As he recalled Rebecca, whose name he never actually learned, falling out of view, as he recalled her blood gushing out of her like cum, her tongue on the pavement, her belly bursting, her eyeball under his foot… he came. His back arched, his legs stretched out as far as they could, his head thrown back in a silent, open-mouthed sigh of pleasure, he held his cock between two fingers in his right hand. He felt his balls tighten and that incredible buildup for just a moment before the sensation of rushing liquid pulsing through his shaft, filling his cocl before launching out in ropes across the shower and against the tile wall. He looked down at it and imagined it was the blood and piss flowing from the corpse, and the next spurt was even more powerful, even more satisfying, as his head began to swim from the rush of blood to his lower body in the heat. His cum coagulated in the intense burning heat if the shower, and he reached to turn the water off even as he continues to throb and launch milky white streams several inches forward. He felt exhausted as he stood there and watched his seed drip down toward the drain but it continued to spurt in smaller and smaller pulses. What felt like the best orgasm of his life. He stared at the cum right by the drain. The white globs that he’d produced while the heat was still intense bad turned into gooey balls that didn’t want to go over the time of the drain easily, when the fresher cum be still leaked was much more liquid and flowed down freely. It looked like the corpse’s brains and blood had as they flowed into the storm drain earlier.