The sick wrong feeling of being caged spikes in your gut, suddenly unbearable, and you lunge for the door. Your loved one (and their loved one) turn at your shout, their faces twisting into expressions of horror as everything goes wrong, as Darkness begins to race up their limbs, immobilizing them, turning them into cold dead stone. What have you done? those expressions say. You know your own says, only what you tried to do to me.

And who are you? Is this really you, who has done this terrible thing? Even if you could not bear what they tried to do to you, there is nothing to be found in what you have done but despair. You feel the hot painful burn of tears on your face, a dragging sense of dislocation and loss. You are left standing, and free, but they are gone.