Your hand sinks into the brand, and it shreds through the plasma shell, seemingly soaking up the plasma. Your leg seems unable to even hit it. It leans towards you, and the spiral seems to turn, increasing slowly in speed. Their viscera runs down your throat, gore, staining the front of your shirt and the sleeves. It feels..... good. Your hunger isn't satiated, and seems only to grow as your wounds begin healing at a greatly increased rate.