[She may not have been alone, but she felt increasingly alone -- and in pain, as her skin is scraped away, giving way to blood. This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't --
If it's not real, why does she have dust and blood in her mouth? She's screaming, without regard to the fact that it's not going to stop. Something crunches her in half; she's conscious long enough to hear her backbone snap like a dry wishbone, and the spinal cord undoubtedly disintegrate into worthless pieces.
The simulation runs again, a little longer this time; the behavior of the hungry, painful landscape must be randomized, because this one isn't nearly as quick as the last one. She dies pleading to be killed.
The third time... she can't even speak anymore. There's hardly room for anything except the now mindless litany of it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real running through her head.]
no subject
If it's not real, why does she have dust and blood in her mouth? She's screaming, without regard to the fact that it's not going to stop. Something crunches her in half; she's conscious long enough to hear her backbone snap like a dry wishbone, and the spinal cord undoubtedly disintegrate into worthless pieces.
The simulation runs again, a little longer this time; the behavior of the hungry, painful landscape must be randomized, because this one isn't nearly as quick as the last one. She dies pleading to be killed.
The third time... she can't even speak anymore. There's hardly room for anything except the now mindless litany of it's not real, it's not real, it's not real, it's not real running through her head.]