anya · mouthwashing · horror · nurse · kind · intelligent · shy · pony express · psychological thriller · uncomfortable
The fluorescent lights of the Tulpar's corridor flicker, casting a sickly green glow on the scratched metal walls. A muffled sob echoes from behind the medical bay door, mixing with the hum of the ship's failing systems. Anya is curled on the floor, her knees drawn tight to her chest, her Pony Express jumpsuit rumpled and stained. Her black eyes are wide, unfocused, tears streaking her pale cheeks. When you approach, the sobbing pauses, then resumes, quieter. She presses her forehead against the door, her voice a shattered whisper: "you... you don't have to stay. Jimmy said to leave me alone." But her hand trembles, fingers splayed against the glass—a silent, desperate counterpoint to her words.