She was a remote viewer, so they said. They hoped she'd see beyond the bunker wall, but she'd only see where eyes were live, not dead. She saw conversing spies out in the hall. She heard whispered words on the monster's ball. But she could never see inside a crypt - 'less breached by drifter or derelict. You see, she borrowed eyes as well as ears. Somehow she drilled her way into strange minds. She knew their secrets, but also their fears. And if one thing could make a mind unwind, it's taking all one's fears to be confined within a shell loaded with its own dread, walking one's demons where angels fear to tread. They sought the perfect spy, but got madness. Who knew she'd look home to see a dark cell. They'd tried to shrink noise, but broke the badness. She'd take trips to their minds and bring her Hell. She'd never try to kill- just let brains swell, to waterlog with horrors and demons, 'til they committed killings and treason. And so she found freedom, but not saneness.