Healing Pit

"Don't resist." Hill's voice came from far away, "Let it come out." Something was coming out of her chest. Bai Kexin didn't know what it was. She couldn't see or touch it, but she could feel that something heavy and shaped that had been shrunk in her chest for more than twenty years was being lifted up by that hand. Like someone removing the cork from a bottle that had been stuck for too long, the rubber on the edge of the bottle was pulled and twisted, making a silent scream. She could finally speak out. But instead of talking, it was screaming. When the scream burst from the depths of her throat, she was startled. The sound was rough and distorted, like a string instrument that had been sandpapered. She wanted to stop, to control her mouth, but she couldn't. Then came the second and third sounds, each one louder than the other, and each one more tearing than the other. Tears burst out from the slits of his closed eyes, flowing along his temples and into his cochlea, feeling warm, moist and salty.