[ The spindle, unlike the child, is indestructible (which is probably a blessing to castle residents whose lives and dreams are now wound about it). It bounces off the floor and clatters about, but is barely scratched by the bullets.
The child itself was content to lie there kicking and laughing under the rain of all those bullets, but stitching back its neck would be more trouble than it's worth. The game ends here. It reaches to grab Anne's wrist after the first few stabs, holding on with enough strength to bruise. At least it makes no move to break her arm. ]
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The child itself was content to lie there kicking and laughing under the rain of all those bullets, but stitching back its neck would be more trouble than it's worth. The game ends here. It reaches to grab Anne's wrist after the first few stabs, holding on with enough strength to bruise. At least it makes no move to break her arm. ]