With the witch still cackling gleefully over Glacius' shoulder, Carlisle wrenches himself the rest of the way from the alien's grasp, skittering behind him on the floor. He pulls his knees to him and curls as tightly as he can, as though he could disappear if he were completely out of the apparition's sight. Yet, he can still feel her there, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as if reaching out to her, drawing her closer to him. He mumbles into his hands, her raucous laughter so loud in the small room.

"Please... stop."

And then there's Glacius, his protector, hacking and coughing behind him. In his terror, he'd struck his partner. He hadn't meant to do it. He hadn't meant for any of this.

"Stop. Stop stop stop."

Carlisle's heart thunders heavily in his chest, the pounding starting up again so suddenly that it hurts. He can feel each beat reverberating into his neck, pulsating behind his eye. His fingers tear into his hair, as though it'd provide him grounding. With every word that escapes him, his voice is more and more ragged, his throat closing as ink bubbles from it once more.

"Stop! Please stop! Why will you not leave me be!?"

The witch keeps howling, her voice shrill against Carlisle's; however, his is the one that pulls against one's very will. The tug is weak for the moment, but as his panic rises, it gets stronger, more desperate to find purchase.