Ugh. I think there’s more shrapnel in my gut than intestine, at this point. The blood’s mostly stopped, that’s probably a bad sign.
The pillar behind me is hard, but not cold anymore. I should hope so, I’ve bled over it long enough. How long has it been, anyway? A minute? An hour? Not long enough for that guy to stop singing, at least. I keep hearing snatches, but it’s so hard to make out. “You are my sunshine… when thou art near me… thy Light has brought me… to~o this place...”
What is he singing? Why is he there? Does he know I’m alive?
Was he the one who tried to kill me?
Ow. I feel sick.
The viewpoint of a woman, running from some other figures. Blue uniforms? But blurry, I - she’s? running. Surrounded. She stops. She’s holding something. Stabs it into her wrist. Laughs. Her features start to change, hair grows longer, fanned out by gunfire. Gunfire? Hair fanned out by the gunfire, as it riddles her body.
My body. I’m standing, laughing. My clothes are shredded, but the blood’s obscuring that. I’m in a clearing - alleyway? Plaza? Somewhere small and circular, in the city. Around me, there are a bunch of people on the ground, riddled with bullets. There’s a lot of blood here. I’m still laughing. My mind is hazy, but laughing feels good. I feel good. Euphoric. Weirdly so, like there’s also nausea, or maybe hints of pain. Would those be bad? It seems like it, but I can’t tell.
[ ] Start investigating the people on the ground.
--[ ] You need clothes. You think you ought to feel cold.
--[ ] Make sure they don't get up again.
--[ ] They might need help.
--[ ] They’re just interesting. (Default)
[ ] Run. You might not be safe here. You remember being chased.
--[ ] There’s a path just a little to the right of where you’re facing. Were you going that direction?
--[ ] Up one of the walls. Could you do that, before? It feels obvious.
--[ ] Out the alley behind you. They won’t be expecting that.
[ ] Examine yourself.
--[ ] Start playing with your hair. Partway down, it changes color! Where it's not bloodstained, that is.