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van had a headache.
that in itself wasn’t unusual— it felt like he was constantly stressed about something or another, so it made sense to him that it’d manifest physically. what didn’t make sense was that the pain was on the top of his head.
it was a persistent pain, one that made him bite the inside of his cheek in attempt to distract himself as he rolled villagers, another distraction. neither worked; in fact, it felt like the pain was growing worse with each day that passed.
van could feel the pressure of his headache growing throughout the days him and his team did various things. his headache made it hard to think as he followed arctic’s footsteps when their team explored the nether. he felt it throbbing as he worked on one of the farms, feeling angel’s watchful eyes on him with his flushed cheeks (of which definitely came from the sun beating down on him). it pulsated as he and tanya pushed each other around in the villager hall, exchanging banter between themselves.
it came to a head when van was digging through some chests for materials. his head had been bothering him endlessly yes, but this pain was unbearable. van was crouched on the ground holding his head, eyes screwed shut as his nails of his free hand dug into the flesh of his thigh. in the midst of his agony, he had a thought: he was vulnerable like this. this wasn’t a safe situation, and he could easily be found and killed.
despite his body’s many protests, van grabbed the corner of the chest he was next to and stood up, still clutching his head. he stumbled a bit to a nearby bed and practically fell on top of it. with his eyes tightly shut, van hoped he’d be able to sleep most of the headache off, or at least wake up with minimal pain.
-
when van woke up, it was the next day. none of his teammates seemed to be around, judging by the general emptiness in the area.
absentmindedly, he rubbed his head before hissing in pain. that woke van up fully, a groan leaving his lips. carefully, he grazed his fingertips against his head and winced when it caused him pain. he didn’t have a headache anymore, but the area was sensitive as hell.
van slowly stood up, pushing a blanket off of himself that one of his teammates must’ve put over him as he slept. he yawned as he walked over to the bathroom door, closing it behind him with a quiet click.
when van got a look at himself in the mirror, he froze. his reflection staring back at him wasn’t the one he saw hours earlier, or ever. in the mirror, van could only stare at his horns. except, they weren’t horns anymore— they had somehow transformed into antlers.
resisting the urge to yell and attract attention to himself, van tried slapping himself in the face. the antlers were still there. they were still there after the second slap. and the third.
van shakily breathed in, staring at his reflection. his nails dug into his palms and his cheeks reddened from the slaps. no, it was so normal for his body to randomly change. it wasn’t at all concerning to him that his horns look different in the 22 years he had seen himself. this was a very normal situation.
hesitantly, van pushed down his heart trying to climb out of his throat and reached up to grabbed one of the antlers. the antler was firm, and scratching his fingernail against it confirmed to van that it was the same material as his horns. his horns had just… changed.
naively, van tried pulling on the antler only to immediately yelp and let go. he mumbled a string of strained curses before clenching his teeth and listening intently outside of the bathroom in silence.
when van heard no indication of his teammates being nearby, he grabbed the counter and gave himself a look-over: short hair, heterochromatic eyes, obvious corruption covering half of his body. nothing else had changed from what he could see besides being a bit sweatier than before. with a frown, van glanced up again at his newly formed antlers and brought a hand to his mouth, thinking.
he wouldn’t be able to hide this no matter how hard he tried. anyone who had seen him could tell that something had changed, and it would only be more apparent to his teammates.
it wasn’t that van expected there to be some kind of negative feedback. rather, he hated that it was such an obvious change, one he could do nothing about.
the antlers reminded van of a deer, and in a way, he was like a deer: he was prey to be hunted. that thought sunk deep into the pits of van’s stomach, leaving an ache that lingered in his bones.
if van thought of himself as a lone wolf last season, he was like a deer this season— part of a pack where, when he gets slaughtered, it’s no one’s fault but his own.
van could practically feel his skin being ripped open again, the sensation of his blood spilling out, and his trembling fingers as he ruminated.
‘i hope you feel my heart beating in your chest.’
he breathed in, his hand hovering over his heart and the fresh scars that covered it.
‘i hope it suffocates you.’
he breathed out and dropped his hand to his side.
it would be nice to see it suffocate someone else for a change, he mused.
then, van squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. he didn’t want to think about that again.
instead, van gave himself another once-over, turning his body to inspect the rest of it. a moment of contemplation passed with van shakily sighing and reaching for the door behind him to start his day.
while van’s anxiety still bubbled in his chest, he had work that needed to get done— he just hoped this wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself.