Cotard delusion (a.k.a. Cotard's syndrome a.k.a. Walking Corpse Syndrome): a disorder in which people believe that they are dead (either figuratively or literally), do not exist, are putrefying, or have lost their blood or internal organs.
[ 24 ; kate warner, jack bauer ] strawberry gashes (r for violence; spoilers for day two)sardonicynicOctober 30 2011, 05:07:39 UTC
Kate has bare seconds to be terrified.
Her knees meet the unforgiving hardwood of her foyer, and the muzzle of the gun is at the back of her head, digging into her scalp.
She doesn't have time to close her eyes.
The pressure disappears.
She blinks; her living room is still here - probably an image conjured by her dying brain.
Or what's left of it, anyway, wet red chunks sprayed across the hall, and pieces of her skull spotting the ivory wall. A few stray strands of blond hair cling in some spots, leaving scalpel-thin whorls of bloodied gray matter on the paint.
And Jack is here - again, and a hair-trigger too late, this time. Poor Jack, lowering his weapon, his eyes so sad. She'll never get to tell him how sorry she is that she couldn't help more, that she couldn't save the chip in time
( ... )
Re: The Mentalist: "White Lady" (Jane & Kristina, PG-13, character death (sort of))rokhalNovember 4 2011, 03:51:06 UTC
Ooh. Nice use of a death omen.
First I think Kristina is crazy, and the horror is about madness. Then she brings up Patrick's wife, and I think, what if I'm wrong? What if it's a supernatural visitation? Then there's the gunman, and the horror isn't between Patrick and Kristina, it's Patrick and a conspiracy: man against fate, and man has no defense from fate. So many twists in such a compact piece. Very cool.
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Her knees meet the unforgiving hardwood of her foyer, and the muzzle of the gun is at the back of her head, digging into her scalp.
She doesn't have time to close her eyes.
The pressure disappears.
She blinks; her living room is still here - probably an image conjured by her dying brain.
Or what's left of it, anyway, wet red chunks sprayed across the hall, and pieces of her skull spotting the ivory wall. A few stray strands of blond hair cling in some spots, leaving scalpel-thin whorls of bloodied gray matter on the paint.
And Jack is here - again, and a hair-trigger too late, this time. Poor Jack, lowering his weapon, his eyes so sad. She'll never get to tell him how sorry she is that she couldn't help more, that she couldn't save the chip in time ( ... )
Reply
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(The comment has been removed)
First I think Kristina is crazy, and the horror is about madness. Then she brings up Patrick's wife, and I think, what if I'm wrong? What if it's a supernatural visitation? Then there's the gunman, and the horror isn't between Patrick and Kristina, it's Patrick and a conspiracy: man against fate, and man has no defense from fate. So many twists in such a compact piece. Very cool.
Reply
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