POP!
KRACK!
There you are. I can finally finish you off.
They've spotted me?! But I destroyed how they see, didn't I?!
LIBERA: Argh!
These mindless mannequins, clearly working with the intentions of some twisted mind, all lunge forward and sieze me.
Their harsh fingertips dig and pierce into my skin with a genuine anger, yanking, scratching,
tearing,
ripping,
gouging.
It's too late for me to realize that this isn't a dream.
My hair is coming out in chunks.
My face is hot with feverish sweat and pained tears.
My arm makes a visceral crack as it is pulled out of the socket.
KRACK!
I try to scream. I want to resist, to plea, to say anything because they very well might be my last words, but blood has already pooled in my lungs and all that comes out are unintelligible gurgles.
It's starting to hurt less now. It actually feels kind of nice.
Airy ...
Dark ...
Cozy ...
