No Survivors: Reality

Or tried to, anyway. The ladder was on the shaded side of the silo, and hence shrouded in complete darkness, the shadow of the silo stretching out along the green dirt of the field. The darkness started to pop and swirl at her, a sickening optical illusion. Then the panic faded in, brilliant orange spikes along the bottom of her vision, a high pitched hum. She lurched to the fetal position, the brilliant swirling green of the rusted silo filling her vision. Then the fear peaked. She has to run. Had to get away. She stumbled off the silo, slamming into the dry dirt with a sickening blue-red crunch. She crawled along, a horrible moaning following her. Was it her? She made it a few feet before rolling on her back, staring up at the purple static sky, her brain locked into a blank frequency, staring. This was just the beginning.

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