[Immediately following
this. The visual feed comes on as the device clatters to to the ground. It must have landed on something, because the angle is tilted so the picture shows Claire picking herself up slowly, and painfully. There's blood covering her face from a very nasty gash on her head. There is a strip of cloth that obviously used to belong to the hem of the shirt she is wearing, tied around her left arm. It's soaked through with blood.
Claire's breathing seems labored, and she cringes at the effort of trying to pick herself up. One of her ribs is broken.
Portions of a figure, naked, with grey scaled skin covering the visible parts of the body, kneels beside her, its back to the camera. Those grey arms encircle Claire, cradling and supporting her. And ultimately blocking her face from view.]
"You can't run from the inevitable, Claire."
[The voice is feminine, and rather cultured. Almost soothing in its tone. Then Claire's body jerked as if stabbed, and she makes an audible gasp for air. Then she's dropped, like so much trash. The grey figure stood and simply left her there.
An ant crawled over the camera viewfinder, as Claire's skin began to turn pale, blue veins slowly deepening in color, like a slowly spreading infection. ]