Her eyes open into blackness. Silence fills her ears. Breathe, she tells herself, feeling awkwardly down the length of her body for the slim cylinder, her elbows bumping against something hard and unyielding.
Breathe.
The light comes on with a press of the switch and the nightmare is one she can't wake from. Above her, the scratches gleam. Tales told of others, who didn't get out.
I want to do what you do, Daddy.
Her face screws up, chest tight and aching, throat filled so she can't swallow.
I don't want to die!
But she might. She might die here.