Amanda ignored the command, pulling the blade horizontally across her stomach and actually having to saw it past her navel. Behind the blade the wound gaped like a grinning mouth, bloodless pink sausages of intestines forcing the gap wider as they expanded.
Harold watch, horrified and fascinated in equal measure. It was like watching seppuku performed in slow motion, except the was no trusted friend ready to decapitate the recipient on completion of the cut. And, of course, she wasn't aware of the agony because her nerve endings were all dead. And she wouldn't die. It was all a bit pointless, really. A cry for attention because they'd ignored her for a few seconds.
Jasfoup leaped to pull the blade out of her hand. The wound was three-quarters complete and he stared helplessly at the ballooning intestines, reluctant to actually touch them. He was remarkably squeamish for a five-hundred year old demon,
Harold thumped him. “Don't just stand there. Do something.”He tried to ignore the stench as he squatted in front of the girl. “That won't work, love. You're dead. Killing yourself won't make you any deader, it just makes a mess.”
“I...was....happy. Flying with angels....go back?”
“No can do, sorry.” He frowned. “Flying with angels seems a bit suspect. Heaven closed its doors a long time ago and souls don't get wings anyway. It's more likely you were in Hell being carried by a demon.” He patted her arm. “Do you know how difficult is it to scrub intestinal stains out of floorboards? That's assuming I can get them all back inside you.”
He felt someone tugging at his shirt and looked down to find Devious holding a dustpan and brush. “Thanks. But what am I supposed to do with them when I've scooped...” He caught sight of the crate behind the imp. Doctor Who Biscuit Barrels First to Fourth Doctors plus Tardis. “Wait. I've got an idea.”