[Dave kind of just...buries his face into his hands. The longer he thinks about it the more he feels sick about it. He's pretty resilient to these things, but he's trying too hard to remember and it's seriously starting to show.]
I don't know where they sent me. [The smell of mutilated flesh. The sounds of screaming. An intense feeling of just pain.]
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I don't know where they sent me. [The smell of mutilated flesh. The sounds of screaming. An intense feeling of just pain.]