You were left slick with bathwater, wet with blood, half-dead and dismayed on the floor outside your bathroom.

      The injuries could be seen to. Arteries could be stanched, then snapped back together. Meat could be sewn up and skin made whole. Dentine was easily reconstructed, and so was enamel, though you might have to re-form your jaw a few times before your bite was correct. Nothing cracked in your skull had driven itself into your brain, and the bleeding could be corrected. But your peace was gone, forever.

Harrow the Ninth - Act Three, Chapter Twenty-Four