She is tired. So very tired.
Her gun lies discarded on the floor - she doesn't know where exactly - somewhere out of reach.
She rests her head on the cold, metallic surface that somehow feels much softer against her skin than it probably should.
Her hands reach out, pulling her Companion Cube closer to her own body, as if trying to melt into it, trying to hide from her ever watching eyes.
'I think I'm going to rot in here…'
She thinkgs it's true. Up until now, she has been defiant, but it feels like the testing is never going to end.
She can't remember the last time she drank or ate anything, but in her head she can still hear that cursed voice, leading her on, mocking her, even the woman - or whatever the hell she really is - isn't even talking to her at the moment.
'You think I'm going mad?'
The cube vibrates against her cheek, maybe shaking it's head no, maybe nodding. Either way, it answers her question.
'Please remember, that the Weighted Companion Cube will never threaten to kill you and - in fact - cannot speak.'
'Ah, yeah, you wouldn't do that, huh?'
Another soft vibrating is her answer.
'You'd never kill your friend.'
With shaking limbs she pushes herself of the floor, picking up the cube in the process.
'Even if I would.'