Broadcast dream;
It's so cold. And the thing about cold is that you never get used to it. Not after hours. Not after years. The cold would have gotten you before the hunger did, if this place wasn't what it is. If you weren't what you are. If you could die.
There is a loud thud to your left. You look up, but dully, because you already know what it signifies. Another body. They are all around you, the bodies of the sinners. You climb over them as you drag yet another body toward the pile you've built against the wall of the pit, your prison; the only way out you can see.The one in your arms is still warm, because they're easier to drag when they're not frozen. It's a woman, her pale face worn and thin. You wonder what her sin was, but what does it matter?
You slip and fall, but you just grit your teeth together and pull yourself up again. You've got to get out. You've got to get out. You'll get out, and you will save the one in the tower, the one waiting for you. You realize you're sobbing, and somewhere far above you a voice calls out brokenly:
"Yuui!"
You've got to get out.
There is a loud thud to your left. You look up, but dully, because you already know what it signifies. Another body. They are all around you, the bodies of the sinners. You climb over them as you drag yet another body toward the pile you've built against the wall of the pit, your prison; the only way out you can see.The one in your arms is still warm, because they're easier to drag when they're not frozen. It's a woman, her pale face worn and thin. You wonder what her sin was, but what does it matter?
You slip and fall, but you just grit your teeth together and pull yourself up again. You've got to get out. You've got to get out. You'll get out, and you will save the one in the tower, the one waiting for you. You realize you're sobbing, and somewhere far above you a voice calls out brokenly:
"Yuui!"
You've got to get out.