NOTE: Mentioned Anxceit, Janus angst, TWs for self-harm, mutilation, blood, minor gore, hurt/no comfort.

DESC: Janus gets his scales.

Snake. You're a snake.

A liar. Manipulative. Evil. Deceptive. Any words you can think of.

An evil, disgusting snake.

Scaled, slimy, deceptive snake.

Janus watched the clock tick silently, the twisting of his fingers holding on to entertain him.

Whoops, they let go.

He flung his legs over the side of the bed. He needed something else. His fingers didn't feel like enough, neither did the room. It felt gray, despite his best efforts at green and yellow. Snakelike colors, huh?

What if...

He slithered out the door and down the stairs to a recently opened package filled with notebooks. Notebooks to make note of everything. To lie about everything constantly.

If he did this, he'd no longer be lying. Everyone would know. They'd see it and know. No need to be worried, unhappy anymore about people hating him. He would forcibly be telling the truth. Always.

But then again, he would be forcibly telling the truth... always. If he did it right, they'd see it forever. He'd leave the marks for himself and all else to see.

He pushed the thoughts out of his head. He needed it. Desperately.

Janus took the box cutter and rushed up to the bathroom. He doubted anyone was going to come over, but he was still paranoid.

Lying to Virgil about that. Being too paranoid.

He slammed the door at this thought and prepared himself, taking a swipe at his arm before...

Snake.

Snake.

Snake.

Repeat.

Repeat the words.

Oh gosh, that worked. Each letter felt like cutting at his soul.

Janus stared into the mirror.

He was almost dramatic about it, but decided that he should be sudden, his mind might change in an instant.

Like his lies could.

He took the blade to his face, each word a scale. It felt good. The mirror showed his worthlessness through blood.

Snake.

Snake.

Snake.

You hurt Virgil. You hurt all your "friends". You're going to keep hurting everyone fucking die-

Slice.

He reached for the part of his face he'd just cut, far longer than the other ones. It stretched from the edge of his mouth to nearly his ear. That's fine. It's fine, it's deeper than the others but that's fine. It feels good. Keep going.

He kept going. Little half-circles all the way up his face. He flinched when he got to the eye uglier than the other. Heterochromia and anisocoria left him with pretty fucked up eyes.

He was then finally done. He smiled at how much he'd done on the one side of his face. The bad side.

No. Not good. This is not good. There was blood all over his face, dripping off onto his clothes, sitting in a small pool on the floor. His face was horrifying, terrifying, unhealthy. Still, it felt good.

Oh god no. Don't cry. Oh god.

He collapsed as the salty water touched a cut. They were deep. All he could see was red and oh god it was terrifying stop get it away-

He cried in anguish and misery, rocking forward and back, forward and back, forward and back.

Forever, now, the snake who cannot lie.