[At first, Gamzee was serene, feeling each fiber of the jacket between his fingers, even when the pressure started getting uncomfortable. His limbs tried to maneuver themselves to Tavros' hands after a few moments of crushing, but they suddenly lost all motor skills, jerking off to the side while he desperately tried to reclaim them. His fingers clenched and unclenched, his back spasmed and his neck jerked, but it didn't matter after a while, because the pain grew so intolerable that his mouth open in a scream. He wasn't sure if it was silent, because he wasn't able to hear anything anyway. His body was failing him, but at the same time his nerve endings seemed to be working overtime. He was being torn apart, skin and bones and tissue and organs ripped from each other, but somehow remaining intact.]
[He wanted to pass out. He wanted to die. He wanted to do anything that wasn't feeling this much pain. ANYTHING.]
[After a blank whiteness, he was watching his body. He didn't know where he was watching it from, but he couldn't move, couldn't feel anything like he could while he was alive. Was he a ghost!? Was he...]
[This machine. It extracted souls. Was he... was he his soul!?]
no subject
[He wanted to pass out. He wanted to die. He wanted to do anything that wasn't feeling this much pain. ANYTHING.]
[After a blank whiteness, he was watching his body. He didn't know where he was watching it from, but he couldn't move, couldn't feel anything like he could while he was alive. Was he a ghost!? Was he...]
[This machine. It extracted souls. Was he... was he his soul!?]
[What a filthy thing to be.]
Wh... what the fuck...