It really was like falling asleep, Sam thought.

In the middle of the bleak, battered tile floor there was a drain which he had not noticed when he entered the room, an event which seemed to have happened in another lifetime to another person. The floor of the room angled slightly down towards the drain and rivulets of blood ran down and into the pipe below it from every direction. It made Sam think of a drawing he had seen once of a black hole’s event horizon.

Sam lay half on his side and half on his stomach on the rim of this slope. Timid tendrils ran out from the pool of his own blood and began to make their descent. Splayed around the rim and beyond lay bodies in varied positions, all still, all mingling their life forces in the drain below.

A runnel of blood snaked through his outstretched fingers, and he knew whose it was. Knew that if he turned his head he would see Susan. He did not turn.

The corners of his vision began to gray, and the pain faded. Not much longer now. Then, sleep.

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