Splish, splash, splish, splash... A childish little rhythm, matched in round with, Plip, plop, plip, plop...
Anna stands from her seated position slowly, her head turning as careful as a turret searching the grounds. She doesn't see what she is looking for, but their voices are unmistakable.
Listen close... and you, too, will hear... The sound... of water...
What she hears beneath the voices is the rattling. The rattling of leather and chain restraints, the rattle and clatter of a metal IV stand, metal tools on metal carts.
"Where is that... coming from?" she inquires hesitantly. She doesn't really want to know the answer. She'd prefer it if he changed his mind, and told her he heard nothing at all. Then it would all be in her head, her own madness seeping forth from a damaged cistern.
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Anna stands from her seated position slowly, her head turning as careful as a turret searching the grounds. She doesn't see what she is looking for, but their voices are unmistakable.
Listen close... and you, too, will hear... The sound... of water...
What she hears beneath the voices is the rattling. The rattling of leather and chain restraints, the rattle and clatter of a metal IV stand, metal tools on metal carts.
"Where is that... coming from?" she inquires hesitantly. She doesn't really want to know the answer. She'd prefer it if he changed his mind, and told her he heard nothing at all. Then it would all be in her head, her own madness seeping forth from a damaged cistern.