[Someone’s cell phone, device feed, whatever turns on, upside down and turned outwards so its hard to tell who’s contacting the network. Instead, it shows a feed of the inside of the Abax Central Station and the sound of rapidly approaching trains can be heard
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What do you mean, the trains don't feel like us? [It's a little bit sharp, though not really hostile.]
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Not the trains. I've not gone that far around the bend, [yet].
A ... sort of presence. Its hard to describe, hard to get a hold on but it doesn't feel like anyone from the hospital.
The trains ... the sensations just get stronger when the trains come.
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[Left unsaid: or yeah, you really have gone that far around the bend.]
You said it's hard to describe. Can you try?
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[The one brief attempt he'd made at it had sent him scurrying back to his own mind with his tail between his legs.
At her question, he gives his head a shake.]
Its mostly sensations. Like someone walking repeatedly over your grave and a ... [his words drifted off because he didn't want to further the opinion that he'd lost his mind.]
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And a what?
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Just a disquiet, like waiting for something to jump out at you.
[In truth, it reminded him of when he was a child and would run across his bedroom and jump on his bed, certain that he had to be on his mattress or the monsters would snatch him from beneath his bed. He'd always been able to feel the crawly tickle of their claws on his skin, though of course, monsters don't exist.]
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I don't think there's anything about a place in which the hostages wake up in a morgue that's not disquieting.
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[No, really. It's genuine, if brisk.]
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