I've got to medicate myself;
WHO: NORMAN OSBORN and ANGELICA EINSTÜRZEN
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: Saturday, late afternoon.
WARNINGS: Nothing dire, but the people who are involved should be warning enough.
SUMMARY: Norman sees shadows and must suffer treatment.
FORMAT: Paragraph.
He'd awoken to the thin silhouette of a woman cast over him, shadow laying over his face and cutting against the wall. He could feel it the way someone feels eyes upon them, but when Norman Osborn opened his eyes, he was looking at the clean, white ceiling. No one was there.
But sitting up, he could see that they were. There she was, moving closer as if to sit beside him on the bed, reaching for him with limbs that clung to the walls. "Emily," he murmured, "Cool it."
The hours didn't pass easily. More shadows crawled about him, trapped in the cell as he was. He recognized Donald Menken, sitting by him, he recognized his own Harry sitting with Emily. But there was another silhouette he couldn't quite place -- they darted around the room, pointing to Norman and swiping at the air, restless and angry. Norman closed his eyes against him, but he could hear them whispering. He could feel them flitting around by the way the light vanished in blinks across his eyelids. At first they were innocuous, but Norman could see them getting more frantic, more restless, running their wispy spidery fingers upon him.
He covered his ears, breathing quickly. "Go away. All of you! OUT." His voice and his demands got louder as the shadows clung.
WHERE: NOHoPE.
WHEN: Saturday, late afternoon.
WARNINGS: Nothing dire, but the people who are involved should be warning enough.
SUMMARY: Norman sees shadows and must suffer treatment.
FORMAT: Paragraph.
He'd awoken to the thin silhouette of a woman cast over him, shadow laying over his face and cutting against the wall. He could feel it the way someone feels eyes upon them, but when Norman Osborn opened his eyes, he was looking at the clean, white ceiling. No one was there.
But sitting up, he could see that they were. There she was, moving closer as if to sit beside him on the bed, reaching for him with limbs that clung to the walls. "Emily," he murmured, "Cool it."
The hours didn't pass easily. More shadows crawled about him, trapped in the cell as he was. He recognized Donald Menken, sitting by him, he recognized his own Harry sitting with Emily. But there was another silhouette he couldn't quite place -- they darted around the room, pointing to Norman and swiping at the air, restless and angry. Norman closed his eyes against him, but he could hear them whispering. He could feel them flitting around by the way the light vanished in blinks across his eyelids. At first they were innocuous, but Norman could see them getting more frantic, more restless, running their wispy spidery fingers upon him.
He covered his ears, breathing quickly. "Go away. All of you! OUT." His voice and his demands got louder as the shadows clung.