Silence Part 3 (POST)
Quiet.
No, not quiet.
Absence.
Muffled.
He hears laughter, a child's laughter, but it's ugly and distorted, nasally and thick. More like snickering? cackling? no, sniggering; vilely gleeful. And then there's P a I n. . .
" . . .?"
It's not a kid; it's a demon. A monster. It's laughing as it hurts him, eyes glinting maliciously. He won't answer, he can't answer, doesn't have the answers, and his body is humming with built-up energy while so far from home - it's cold and runs through him like power along circuitry, but then-
His neck is burning with fire, too hot, and he's s g. . .!
"S eá n ?"
"-old 'im -own-"
"Go- it of'."
"- asleep?"
"-ack? Jack?"
"He's - suppressing energy - too low; dangerous levels -"
"- try - the Dismalen -"
The voices filter through, faintly. Words jumbled and cut off. But through it all, in the dark where he rests and hides, he feels something warm and soft wash over him.
It feels like:
Safe friends here safe okay okay care friendship fondness okay? friends good rest safe
And Jack feels himself relaxing, unsure if it's his body or mind doing so. He begins to fall out of his weird shut-down state and drift towards something resembling sleep, the last dredges of his consciousness catching on one last thing.
home.