Their worried expressions faded from her consciousness but the fear remained as the cold of cryo tube over took her failing body and sealed her in a living stasis on the cusp of death.
Devon was vaguely aware that she must be dreaming though the sensation just felt like she was drowning in dark and cold.
There was a pressure around her, a presence of some type something immense, something hostile that she could sense rather than see or comprehend.
Something moving in the darkness, that could obliterate her, of that she was instinctively certain and a level of primal fear gripped in her dark isolation.
In the dream she was looking around wildly, trying to seek the source of this creeping horror.
It was akin to the growing panic and anxiety as if oxygen had been cut off, and air was swiftly running out only she had no trouble breathing.
The darkness was claustrophobic, confining somehow and she could not escape the thought that she was slowly and inexorable being walled in.
Devon shouted out her anxiety to the emptiness; she had dreamed in cryo sleep before and it wasn’t like this.
At its worse it had been jumbled half coherent images, and she knew that part of the preparation cocktail of drugs was something to induce pleasant states of mind.
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