“Cmon Sofia, we must move, our lives depend on it”
Despite her agony, Sofia managed to pull herself together, pull her pants up and the team resumed their movement. Cratt catched up on them in the crawl space, horrified with the scene. Their survival was not just a matter of chance—it was a matter of will. First a tremor, then a sharp twist, as though pulled by a puppet string. Her limbs shook. Pained gasps and sobs were coming from her non stop. A sudden pressure built inside her skull. She activated the release mechanism, and the panel hissed open, revealing the narrow, dark passageway beyond. ***
The ship was no longer just a vessel—it was a tomb wrapped in steel, humming faintly with an unnatural resonance. Sofia was gasping and tears rolled down her face non stop. As they observed her they made an unmistakable conclusion – her right fist was lodged deep in her anus. Sofia was a striking figure—tall and athletic, with the graceful movement of someone who had honed her physique through years of rigorous training. Images and commands were forced into her weakened mind. The ship’s metal creaced as if it was bent or torn apart.
