You wish you had said no. But you didn't. It was like walking into a nightmare. Perhaps Steel's dampeners started to fail, perhaps you just got separated. You're still not sure, everything is twisted, and you don't want to remember. Anathema died, which you can't forget. Melted his face with acid as you watched in horror. Ortega and Steel were gone, and you found yourself alone in an apartment on the fourth floor. Falling into madness. Falling into another mind.
Memories not yours. An experiment. Wires. Voices. Nine black rectangles on white walls. The air cold enough to hurt. You were under psychic attack, and you were infested. Invaded. Something was moving in the room, Heartbreak, wasted body, toothless gums, medical wires. Trying to touch you.
You had a gun, and you were not about to let terror stop you from acting. Fear. Despair. Terror. None of these were new to you, and even though everything around you screamed at you to turn the gun on yourself, you aimed it straight at Heartbreak and pulled the trigger.
Again. Again. The body fell but the psychic pressure was unrelenting, and you could not stop yourself.
The window offered a modicum of release.
You remember falling.
You remember hitting the ground. Pain. But not as much pain as in the apartment you left behind.
And then the terrors of your past took you and everything turned black.
Back To The Farm