Her eyes narrow a little as she looks back at the boy, because he doesn't seem to realize that he's dead like she does. That seems strange. She wants to know what the heck he thinks is going on if he doesn't know he's dead. His voice is soft and his words are gentle. That makes her flinch, too, because sometimes the most gentle words come before a knife in the back.
It isn't until after he's introduced himself and suggested that they find their way out that Carrie's fear shifts into something more pitying when she looks back at him. "We can't get out," she says softly. "When it's your time, it's your time."
She winces and hisses again, feeling the sting at her back and finally stepping away from the wall, even though that means moving closer to Peter. She has to take the pressure off the wound. That, and moving again, Carrie can't help noticing the thing embedded in her arm, glowing blue-white light and she gasps, staring down at it, all but forgetting Peter entirely for a moment.
"I don't...this...wh—" she stammers uncertainly, blinking rapidly with surprise and turning around so that she can look at the record player where the sound had come from, as though maybe it will hold answers for her. Doing that will expose her back — and the stab wound — to him, she realizes belatedly as she moves toward the record player with the hope that she can play back the message and see if she'd just...missed something in it that would explain this thing in her arm. Oh well. They're dead. It can't look that bad anymore, can it? It's probably just phantom pain, she tells herself.
no subject
It isn't until after he's introduced himself and suggested that they find their way out that Carrie's fear shifts into something more pitying when she looks back at him. "We can't get out," she says softly. "When it's your time, it's your time."
She winces and hisses again, feeling the sting at her back and finally stepping away from the wall, even though that means moving closer to Peter. She has to take the pressure off the wound. That, and moving again, Carrie can't help noticing the thing embedded in her arm, glowing blue-white light and she gasps, staring down at it, all but forgetting Peter entirely for a moment.
"I don't...this...wh—" she stammers uncertainly, blinking rapidly with surprise and turning around so that she can look at the record player where the sound had come from, as though maybe it will hold answers for her. Doing that will expose her back — and the stab wound — to him, she realizes belatedly as she moves toward the record player with the hope that she can play back the message and see if she'd just...missed something in it that would explain this thing in her arm. Oh well. They're dead. It can't look that bad anymore, can it? It's probably just phantom pain, she tells herself.