They needed news.

They needed solace.

They needed time to slow down to a halt for the rest of their lives.

Of course, they had felt pain before in those old lives. Suffering. Anguish. Loneliness They would trade anything for a return to that agony. Another chance at the stagnant, dull, throbbing aches of not knowing another's touch; rather than running decapitated with the invasive, piercing intimacy of knowing another's pain.

Every activity in the cages tied back to the moment one of the sisters may appear again. Bargaining with the universe. "If this water droplet stays in place, She won't arrive." "If I can still crawl six laps around the tank without dropping, I'll be free soon." "If I can count to four breaths, with timed inhales and pauses and exhales, I'll be asleep when She comes."

She came anyway.

Now, when Fran's trodding, lumbering legs came in, the patients waiting for the door to swing behind her, Anderson began laughing. He choked on blood from regrowing arms, lips bloody. "God. I finally understand now." He flopped over and faced her curious eyes. "This woman is God, right? God is punishing me. My punishment from casting away the love of my family, my friends, in pursuit of this twisted forbidden fruit... For my lust, for the others I've dragged into hell... I'm an insect before God. A filthy insect undeserving of love--!"

As Fran was about to open her mouth, a pained voice from another tank interrupted her. "Shut up..."

Bello groaned, along with Hadi.
Tessay sucked air molecules in.
Liu remained frozen, with drenched eyes.

Pedro repeated, barely able to hack out: "Shut up, shut up. *Cagh...* Again... You go on this whole tirade. You ALL do. *F-f...fugh...* You keep acting like you're special, like you're some kind of tortured Byronic hero... Just because you have a fetish? Come on. You're not above or below any of those 'normies'... *KHKKK*... You're not making a statement or rebelling... you're masturbating to weird porn. We all were. You're not even using your own words, just... a fucking movie quote." He swallowed, throat dry and sore from the fumes. "I hope you're happy. Happy with these weird-ass victim fantasies where you keep jerking off about the world being out to get you... Happy that you finally got what you fucking asked for..."

For a moment, the doctor looked to Pedro, then back to Anderson. Her blonde hair swayed. Finally, she covered her mouth. "Ah, I'm sorry! I'm making this discussion rather awkward, just standing here, aren't I? Forgive my intruuuusion~" She kept moving. It passed the other broken bodies, towards the final girl - her shadow growing over her, until the fluorescent lights cast no more illumination into the thin glass walls.

Liu stammered before her bosom, taking a few shallow, hurried breaths. The sway of the blood-red ribbon on her uniform was hypnotic, like a pendulum counting her time down. She shook her head, covering her ears from the growing noise of shifting steps and groaning patients around her. She was the last one, it was her turn.

"Veronica..." Liu finally managed. "Please, Veronica..."

The doctor scratched the back of her hair - while looking over a clipboard. "That's right... You wrote that down, you wanted your experiment to be with my younger sister." Her yellowish eyes peeked back up from it, head tilting. "Is that still what you'd prefer?"

Liu nodded. "Y-yeah. Veronica... V-Veronica's the only one who understands." Her small hand instinctively went for her chest, in her white, stitched dress. "You just keep people alive, even if it tortures them... And the others, I can't stand... I can't stand their bickering, I can't keep up with these voices from all over. It has to be her... No one else can take me out. I thought about it again and again, but I still want her." She swallowed, closing her fist.

With a nod, Fran tapped her lip. "For the sake of my curiosity... Actually, for the sake of our sisterly bond..." She started putting a pencil to a paper. "...What parts of Veronica appeal to you?"

"Veronica's... Strong. She's a perfect, unstoppable, quiet masterpiece who stays dignified, even when things get bad. And she understands, she understands that a quick, respectful death, a warrior's death... Is best." The small shape, between Fran's outstretched arms, stood defiantly. "The kind of girl who can't ever hurt... She'll free me from this."

"Well, it's an interesting request. I still believe that your natural human survival instinct will win out." Fran's hand reached into the glass, the folding palm around two forceps. "But I hope you know the consequences..."

"Yes! I-I mean..." A blush crossed her cheeks, and she shut her eyes as the metallic touch on her ribs lifted her. "With this body, with these people... No matter what... I want my last moments with her."

The next thing she knew, she was out of the glass room - looking up. On one side, the chamber she had spent the better part of eternity in. On the other, Fran's swaying coattails making a whooshing noise through the air.

And Liu did nothing. None of the other shrunken people around could raise their voices high enough, to drown out the slow, certain shake of incoming boots. It felt as if they paced back and forth for another eternity, giving her time to think back.

Back to when she first came in, back to when she first discovered these fetish sites...

Her rushed, stirring mind told her that she should have finished that book, spoken with that friend, been better - and told her to do nothing and lie. Every one of those old events, every moment of her life seemed, in retrospect, escapism from this grim reality - being in that cage, in this cursed body, on the floor here. This was real.

Liu kept on her back, arms raised in acceptance, as the door opened.

As the boot treads came into view.

As a deft move compressed her face into her neck into her spinal cord into her lungs.

As Veronica stepped on her.

*SCRUNCH.*

Veronica froze. That noise - that couldn't have happened. It was like a cymbal against her eardrums, and the slight resistance to her step sickened her. Her hands at either side of her coat, she scanned the cages. "No, no. I came in for... I wanted to talk to her... If one of them got out, Fran's gonna be so..."

She instinctively lifted her leg to walk towards the containers and examine which ones had missing subjects. The drip of blood from her boot sole told her otherwise - not another step. So from there, on one leg, she scanned the enclosures.

Bello and Hadi were louder than ever, and she couldn't bear glancing at them.
Anderson was, of course, hunched over and sobbing, begging to nobody.
Pedro's container was too foggy to make out. It might be him.
Liu... No. It was empty, but her eyes darted away.
Nobody in Tessay's spot, and his outfit was left there. Another option. She didn't want to consider what was underneath her, but...

At this point, she could do nothing else. Veronica slowly, with both hands, lifted her boot up, to see if she could recognize the shape compressed on the bottom.

Beneath a twisted mangle of ripped-open flesh, broken bone, and eyes plucked from snapped sockets, tufts of black hair... And a dress. A dress that was white, pink from the stains of ripped red muscles.

The dress she had sewn for Liu.

"No, that isn't... Come on, Fran said you couldn't...! Liu, you didn't... How did you...!?"

Without thinking, Veronica took her gloves off, and used her index finger to peel through the viscera, scooping as much as she could. Blood soaked into her scars. It felt like burning lava in her clumsy hand. She rushed towards the glass container, putting the ruined, mashed mess of Liu back in.

"Here... This container, this place... is directly connected to the life support machine, right? It's going to... It's going to bring you back, like with the others, right?"

She stared directly at the unmoving lump, blue eyes wide and uneven.

"Right?..."

In her reflection, her scars looked menacing and brutal, like in a mugshot.

"...R...Right...?"

Her bucket hat began blocking out her face. A single hand rested on the hard, cold glass, sliding down. When her stitched, scar-ridden fingers parted, she could almost still see a smiling, shy face ducking in those sleeves, she could almost pretend there were still legs coming from the dress' lower opening.

"RIGHT!?... r-ri-...ght...?"

A piercing squeaking noise. Both hands clutched to the glass.

*SLAM*

Veronica pounded on it.

*SLAM - SLAM - SLAM*

Her fists flew onto the container, desperately pounding, while the giantess took quick, loud breaths.

"Why... Why didn't I sense it? If you said anything, a single word, if you breathed, I would've... I would've heard...! WHAT was I even thinking of? I was thinking of... I was thinking of..."

Her cheek pressed to the tank... And she continued hitting it, face red.

"Why didn't I listen... Why didn't I listen to what you were saying, about... about death... No, come on, no... Liu. Why did I do this to you? Not like this, you didn't deserve to..."

*SLAM -* *CRNNNKkkklll-*

The glass was now shattered. Shards pierced in, splintering, forming new scars in her hands. Gashes drawing blood, mixing with Liu's. It didn't matter. She hadn't nearly began to suffer enough for the destruction. Veronica kept pounding at the empty air. Wailing out. Clenching her teeth. Lifting one bit of footwear up.

"Liu... I... This shoe did this to you..." Her boot slammed, before she stepped back in horror at the shaking from it. "No, no..."

Her knees collapsed.

"I did this... I did this, all alone... This monster... I really am..." She sniffed. "I really am... a monster, Liu..."

Throughout the panic, Liu heard.

By some cruel miracle, she still maintained consciousness. The life supporting machine continued to fulfil its role. Fran was right. Nothing could truly kill her. Nothing except the expression on Veronica's face, twisted in pain. The same pain Liu wanted to protect her lover from. She rested in the cell, less than an insect; with no will to live, but no way to die.

She had wanted to feel small. Like she was nothing. Like the tiniest wrong move could break her. She did. She felt so, so small.

The echoing cries grew louder, then quiet, breathless.

Uncountable tears later, Fran entered the room, hands behind her back. Even to her sister, crouching down to the side, she seemed a lumbering tower.

"Heeey, I heard you were feeling down, so gueeeess what?" Fran pulled out a small, smiling doll, offering it before Veronica's face.

The younger Madaraki sister kept her head bowed. "I'll break it. I'll shred it to pieces. I ruin everything..." Her forehead went to her knees.

Quietly turning to the remaining cell, and looking over the mess that was Liu, Fran seemingly spoke to herself. "Such a gentle-hearted girl, isn't she?... Veronica's had a rough life. It's made her cynical, and she's pushed people away... Even me. But in a way, it's also made her desperate."

Her fingers squeaked against the edge of the container. The red dot remained still for a moment. Fran stopped speaking, as if waiting for a response. None came. Even if Liu had anything to say, Fran wouldn't hear it.

"Veronica is quick to cling to people who show her kindness... then, she has trouble letting people go. Since she has such trouble finding real friends. Well, I wouldn't be pessimiiiistic~" She smiled. "She'll probably find a real friend someday."

Liu tried to speak. She tried to move. Give a sign of life. Apologize. Tell Veronica how wrong she was about herself. Go back. Punch Fran in her smug face. Give her companion a hug...

...But she could no longer. She could no longer contact the black, silent specter in the corner, or the doctor who had welcomed her in with many hands.

Like the rest of the people in these glass cages, she could no longer walk. No longer talk. No longer breathe. No longer think clearly. She did not die, but she did not live. She only existed, hated herself, and despaired, from within the broken glass walls. Listened to the painful sobs and groans, the whirr of life-supporting machinery. Sensed the faint, lingering smells drifting into the room.

Formaldehyde.

Antisceptic.

Raw meat left out.

Iron, or something similar - a tool? Blood?

Burnt, cauterized fat.

Bone dust, they had learned over the week, smelled of corn chips.

Green tea and black tea, wet and warm.