Voices from Heaven (
thespaceopera) wrote in
driftfleet2015-10-20 10:06 am
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Entry tags:
Sweet dreams are made of these...
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no subject
See?
[And then Abigail materializes behind him, hooked onto a rack of antlers, her wound patterns the same as Marissa's. She looks the same otherwise, sober and a little sad and tired but otherwise not terribly distressed. Her voice is calm.]
You need to run. Right now.
no subject
not perhaps out of overwhelming fear, but more of a need for action--keep moving to survive. like a shark needing water pushing through its gills. slow down for too long and it's all over.
but he can't just run off yet. he doesn't know if he's still really in that kitchen room, or if he's anywhere at all, but he at least tries to follow a different instinct. she's stuck and bleeding, and he knows what comes next. he wasn't forgiven for it the first time, so he can't turn his back now.
he walks towards her instead of running away.]
no subject
No. No, no--
[She shakes her head, the only part of her not impaled, the only thing she can move.]
No, no, no, you need to go, please don't save me, please don't, I don't deserve to be saved!