[It's like stepping on sliprock, and starting a landslide. She pushes, and he more than crumbles, the crevasses of him deep enough to be possessed of their gravity. She falls in. She owns him - she is him, and he is in steady, constant agony, the impalement of the body and the mangling of the mind.
He is terrified, and horrified, sick with revulsion at the acts of his hands and his helplessness before the tendrils of the shadows here. His relief is the only solace, a desperate gratitude that she could stop him, a plea not to let go, even as he knows she suffers to hold him.
Make me run he begs, flinging his understanding at her in urgent clarity while his body holds still: the compulsion is localized, each part of the building pressing him to enforce its own agenda. He is unnaturally strong and unnaturally fast, and if she wants not to be here, he can bear her away in a heartbeat.
He cares about her, warm and smooth-edged and sturdy like a worn stone worry bead tucked amid the spikes, and he wants terrible not to hurt her.]
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He is terrified, and horrified, sick with revulsion at the acts of his hands and his helplessness before the tendrils of the shadows here. His relief is the only solace, a desperate gratitude that she could stop him, a plea not to let go, even as he knows she suffers to hold him.
Make me run he begs, flinging his understanding at her in urgent clarity while his body holds still: the compulsion is localized, each part of the building pressing him to enforce its own agenda. He is unnaturally strong and unnaturally fast, and if she wants not to be here, he can bear her away in a heartbeat.
He cares about her, warm and smooth-edged and sturdy like a worn stone worry bead tucked amid the spikes, and he wants terrible not to hurt her.]