Night 53: Autopsy Room 2

[you_miss_it]

[From here.]

And it was dark. The bright white of John's flashlight only seemed to emphasize inky black shadows and pristine white tiles. When (if?) he got out of here, he resolved never to see another horror movie -- after all, what would be the point?

He ran his flashlight over the room, taking in the empty tables, the scale. It was obvious (or at

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[neuepolitik]

Hm... no, that didn't seem quite right to Ludwig. The simple fact of the matter was that there weren't enough patients in the Institute to justify all of this, especially not with so many tables. Mortality rates didn't seem to be all that high. No, as Ludwig glanced at the tables, he found himself shaking his head. "People get hurt, but they seem to have advanced medicine, enough to help the body heal faster than normal. Besides, if they were killed, why bother with a morgue? The refrigerators were clearly empty, they can't be storing the bodies here. And certainly they can't have so many deaths a night that all of this equipment would be necessarily. Especially if the other room is similar to this one."

He wasn't certain of that, but he felt it was a safe guess. If it lead to the same room as this one on both ends, they likely had similar functions. Especially since there wasn't a glass or anything to betray a meeting room or somewhere to hold a dialogue about the bodies being examined. Six tables for autopsies? That would be more fitting for an institute holding far more people.

As it was, though, Ludwig glanced over to John, then walked over. He saw the glint of metal, and while most of it was of relatively little use, he saw those scalpels. While it'd require being in close quarters, that was still far better than the bare hand. "Is there enough for both of us?"

[you_miss_it]

"It does seem a bit... much," John agreed, glancing back towards the tables. "Even for the number of injuries I've seen. But what..."

What -- who? --were they autopsying? John shook his head; there was no good to come from this line of thought. And little evidence to draw conclusions from. Sherlock often chided others for coming to conclusions too rapidly, for speculating without evidence. It wouldn't do him any good to start guessing, to start jumping with shadows. Not when there enough shadows to jump at already.

Ludwig's last question, at least, had a simple answer. "More than enough."

He held up a scalpel and offered it to Ludwig, picking up another from another drawer for himself. They were better than nothing, after all.

[neuepolitik]

Whereas for Ludwig, he couldn't let go of the matter so quickly. He didn't have much to go on, but he still felt uncomfortable not being able to explain everything. He wanted at least some theory about what he was seeing. It just wasn't like him to not have at least some theory or explanation. Unfortunately for him, he didn't even have enough information to start forming such a theory. He just didn't have anything to go on, and that bothered him to no end.

For now, though, he focused on what he could do. He accepted the scalpel, then scooped up a few more. Three more for him, in case the first broke. It was always a smart idea to keep spares, just in case. Especially with all of the things that they might have to fight. Scalpels were sharp, but they weren't particularly durable. And it would be of no use if they were left weaponless when they most needed protection.

After stowing the scalpels, Ludwig nodded toward the far door. Perhaps more information would give them more to work with. "Let's go?"

[you_miss_it]

This place held too many possibilities -- most of them disturbing possibilities -- and nowhere near enough answers. He shook his head, following Ludwig's example and taking a second scalpel from the drawer. He didn't want to think too much on why he might need it, so he didn't.

He was sure he would, later, when it was calm and there's nothing else to worry about. But for now, at least, he could push them aside by focusing on the task at hand. There was more of this facility to explore and, he at least had to hope, the chance of answers.

He tried the far door and, when it didn't budge, he persuaded it to open with the appropriate application of brute force.

[To here.]