Time: Day 004, morning
Summary: After Jack died, Sally ended up in rather sorry shape.
Warnings: angst, mutilated ragdoll
Sally was drifting in and out of consciousness. She couldn't quite call it sleep, because it hurt too much and she never seemed to shake the exhaustion. She didn't even know what time it was, having fallen into the washing machine in an attempt to escape the dark, shadowy thing that had been running from room to room and gave her a very bad feeling. But with only one arm and her legs having come off in the panicked escape, she could do little to escape the machine, and she was too tired to even try.
She tried not to think about Jack. It hurt too much to think about him. When she did, she wished the creature had caught her. It was almost a blessing that her exhaustion and injury kept her from focusing on much of anything for very long.
Outside of the machine, one leg, miraculously spared, was hopping up and down next to the washing machine in an attempt to return to Sally. The other was in pieces that seemed beyond repair, leaves turned to dust and cloth torn apart. It didn't so much as twitch.