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- Viola isn’t bleeding anymore. All her blood has been spilled, and both of her arms have been torn from her body. As I look on in horror, the creature rips out her chest and throws her aside, a broken, motionless husk. There’s exposed circuitry where half my mind insists there should be muscle, should be bone, and something thin and oily drips from her wounds. Hydraulic fluid, probably. Cleaning solution. The vital substance of robotics.
- ...
- “Bet now you wish you’d run, huh?” she asks. Her voice sounds normal, which is disturbing in a way I don’t have a word for. Her chest has been cracked open. Her lungs—or whatever interior structures serve as her lungs—have been pulverized.
- Echo, Chapter 17
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