Angel of my Nightmare
Who: Aiden
What: An idea
Where: the building with the jail in it
When: Late night day 22
Invited: Jon, Scott, Ethan, anyone else involved in interrogations who's still up
Status: Completed
She didn't toss and turn all that much really. Not as much as one would think if they could see what she was seeing, remember what she was remembering. She'd kicked the covers off, as she had a thousand times before. Her eyes twitched back and forth behind her closed eyelids, scanning the landscape of an often visited nightmare. Sensory memories hit her hard and she relived things all was real again. The taste of blood, the smell of decay, the sound of screams; her own, yet somehow foreign to her ears, detached, as if her spirit has already left her body. Came close.
Through all the horror, the wicked curse that memory can be there is still light in the darkness. She survived. Take my hand Angel. She talks in her sleep.
"I can't." You can, just take my hand. "I can't. Leave me." Leave her alone, to wither and die and decay like the bodies around her. Leave her to forget what had happened and let it be buried with her.
She shook awake suddenly, sitting straight up in bed. Bathed in sweat the chilled recycled air created goosebumps on her over heated skin. He didn't leave her, she survived. Her breath was heavy and loud in the silence. She sat there in for a moment, looking around as if she expected someone else to be there. She licked her lips, her mouth dry. She reached a hand to her head but there was no blood, not that she really expected there to be any, she knew where she was. Still, it was all so real in sleep.
Ideas formed in her mind, puzzle pieces falling into place somehow more easily accessed in the moments after sleep. She pulled herself out of bed quickly and dressed. When she entered the control room she was slightly more put together but only slightly.
"I think I may have an idea on how we can break Ethan." she stated to all who was in the room.
What: An idea
Where: the building with the jail in it
When: Late night day 22
Invited: Jon, Scott, Ethan, anyone else involved in interrogations who's still up
Status: Completed
She didn't toss and turn all that much really. Not as much as one would think if they could see what she was seeing, remember what she was remembering. She'd kicked the covers off, as she had a thousand times before. Her eyes twitched back and forth behind her closed eyelids, scanning the landscape of an often visited nightmare. Sensory memories hit her hard and she relived things all was real again. The taste of blood, the smell of decay, the sound of screams; her own, yet somehow foreign to her ears, detached, as if her spirit has already left her body. Came close.
Through all the horror, the wicked curse that memory can be there is still light in the darkness. She survived. Take my hand Angel. She talks in her sleep.
"I can't." You can, just take my hand. "I can't. Leave me." Leave her alone, to wither and die and decay like the bodies around her. Leave her to forget what had happened and let it be buried with her.
She shook awake suddenly, sitting straight up in bed. Bathed in sweat the chilled recycled air created goosebumps on her over heated skin. He didn't leave her, she survived. Her breath was heavy and loud in the silence. She sat there in for a moment, looking around as if she expected someone else to be there. She licked her lips, her mouth dry. She reached a hand to her head but there was no blood, not that she really expected there to be any, she knew where she was. Still, it was all so real in sleep.
Ideas formed in her mind, puzzle pieces falling into place somehow more easily accessed in the moments after sleep. She pulled herself out of bed quickly and dressed. When she entered the control room she was slightly more put together but only slightly.
"I think I may have an idea on how we can break Ethan." she stated to all who was in the room.