The bugs haven't stopped still. But bugs burn just as well as anything else, so fire it up.

Once Nekomata steps away from the wall containing the bookshelves she's pulled burning material from, several more books tumble to the floor in loud thumps. Revealing a soft glow on the wall behind them. TV screens stacked in a grid, each flicking on one by one. The images behind the wrinkles and static depicting gruesome, pulsing gore and blood, like they were security camera feeds to whole rooms made of bleeding meat and organs.

There's a new sound coming from the open drawer; choked, female sobs. A voice crying pitifully as if deathly afraid. Slowly growing in volume.