Almost like the sound of a gun hammer cocking. It's unhurried now, the rustle of chains muffled. Not in front of her, not behind her, but within earshot. And then they fade again as he goes still.
Catwalk. Metal railings, with cords and wires like blood vessels thrumming behind gratings and broken glass. A pipe nearby lets out a stream of gas that sounds like a rasping breath.
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Almost like the sound of a gun hammer cocking. It's unhurried now, the rustle of chains muffled. Not in front of her, not behind her, but within earshot. And then they fade again as he goes still.
Catwalk. Metal railings, with cords and wires like blood vessels thrumming behind gratings and broken glass. A pipe nearby lets out a stream of gas that sounds like a rasping breath.
Whose nightmare are they in, now? His? Or hers?