:035:
(radio memory)
[The memory begins softly - the unfamiliar voice of a young girl, plaintive and frightened.]
Are we...not human?
[The voice that answers is, unmistakably, Kurayami's - but calm, gentle, detached, perhaps a little melancholy at most. The tone of an authority figure.]
Nobody knows what we are. For now, we call ourselves the [static].
I want to go home!
[static] are not allowed to leave this town. Besides, even if your family was out there in the world somewhere, they wouldn't know you if they saw you now.
Why not?
Just as you cannot remember the world you left, there is nobody in this world who remembers you. That's the kind of world this is.
Why me? [The girl's voice is straining now, on the verge of tears.] I was nothing special, I know I wasn't! Just an ordinary girl...
I wonder? Nobody knows why.
[Kurayami's voice is still cool and collected. There is a sound of footsteps on a wood floor, and a rustling of cloth. Suddenly, the girl lets out a little shriek and begins to breathe in frantic, pained gasps. Something squelches, wetly.]
Ah! Aah, ahhh!
It's started...!
[For the first time, Kurayami sounds worried. Running footsteps pound the floor, and the girl's whimpering cries seem to go on and on without breathing. A curtain flaps, and something clatters against the floor. Kurayami grunts, then cries out in alarm, and there is a noisy crash, as of a heavy metal object hitting the floor and spilling pieces everywhere.]
It hurts! It hurts! It hurts, it hurts!
[The girl is weeping between gasps now; it sounds like she can hardly breathe. Running footsteps again, and then Kurayami's urgent voice rings out in a shout.]
Bite this! So you won't bite your tongue!
[A split second pause, and then Kurayami grunts with pain. There is a wet splatter, and a thump like someone falling over...and then a long, horrible, squashy noise like flesh being ripped apart. The girl gasps, once - there's an awful moist splat, like liquid flung against the walls of a room - and she gives an open-throated scream of pure, helpless agony that seems to echo long after she's fallen silent.]
(end transmission)
[The memory begins softly - the unfamiliar voice of a young girl, plaintive and frightened.]
Are we...not human?
[The voice that answers is, unmistakably, Kurayami's - but calm, gentle, detached, perhaps a little melancholy at most. The tone of an authority figure.]
Nobody knows what we are. For now, we call ourselves the [static].
I want to go home!
[static] are not allowed to leave this town. Besides, even if your family was out there in the world somewhere, they wouldn't know you if they saw you now.
Why not?
Just as you cannot remember the world you left, there is nobody in this world who remembers you. That's the kind of world this is.
Why me? [The girl's voice is straining now, on the verge of tears.] I was nothing special, I know I wasn't! Just an ordinary girl...
I wonder? Nobody knows why.
[Kurayami's voice is still cool and collected. There is a sound of footsteps on a wood floor, and a rustling of cloth. Suddenly, the girl lets out a little shriek and begins to breathe in frantic, pained gasps. Something squelches, wetly.]
Ah! Aah, ahhh!
It's started...!
[For the first time, Kurayami sounds worried. Running footsteps pound the floor, and the girl's whimpering cries seem to go on and on without breathing. A curtain flaps, and something clatters against the floor. Kurayami grunts, then cries out in alarm, and there is a noisy crash, as of a heavy metal object hitting the floor and spilling pieces everywhere.]
It hurts! It hurts! It hurts, it hurts!
[The girl is weeping between gasps now; it sounds like she can hardly breathe. Running footsteps again, and then Kurayami's urgent voice rings out in a shout.]
Bite this! So you won't bite your tongue!
[A split second pause, and then Kurayami grunts with pain. There is a wet splatter, and a thump like someone falling over...and then a long, horrible, squashy noise like flesh being ripped apart. The girl gasps, once - there's an awful moist splat, like liquid flung against the walls of a room - and she gives an open-throated scream of pure, helpless agony that seems to echo long after she's fallen silent.]
(end transmission)