Night 25: Intercom, Early Night
With a crackle, the intercom came back on, and with a boom, the Head Doctor began to laugh into the microphone, his mouth so close that his breath rasped out of the speakers. Finally, he spoke, with one word that seemed to mean more than he let on
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The sound of an unfamiliar voice echoing around him, the instantaneous knowledge that he was in an unknown place in an unknown bed had golden eyes snapping open, sleek, muscled form trained to both seduction and violence (and sometimes both simultaneously) jerking in an uncommon lack of inherent grace.
Daemon sat up, waiting for eyes to adjust to the blackness around him, listening to the voice continue to speak words that made no sense. Words about heavens, paradise, and different earths. Was the man mad? There was no heaven, no paradise, except what one made of the realm of Hell before slipping back into the Darkness. And what were these different earths he spoke of? He didn’t recognize any of them, and not once was Kaeleer or Terreille mentioned.
Then the voice carried on, pausing to inject a taunting note about knowledge before mentioning patients - patients? Was that how he’d ended up here? But how…? - arriving, before there was a click and Daemon was left in silence and blackness.
Eyes having adjusted only enough to show him vague shapes in the darkness, Daemon sought to call in witchlight, find a nearby candle or torch to flare to life with Craft, but there was… nothing.
Puzzled, he tried again, with the same result. He called for his jewels, feeling his familiar ring missing from his finger, and again had no response. Quickly stifling a flare of panic at this unimaginable shock, he felt around him, clever fingers sliding along the bedsheets for anything familiar, and finally brushing against something solid and cool to the touch. Fingers curling around the cylindrical object, he studied it in bewilderment for a moment, fumbling along it’s smooth sides before he found a knob of some sort and suddenly light shot from one end of it.
Daemon was so startled he nearly dropped it, but at least that solved his problem of being unable to see. Pointing the shining length around the room, he took in his surroundings, instantly spotting a bed across the room from his with another young man asleep in it.
Warily, he rose and approached, reaching out and shaking the man’s shoulder, but getting no response. Whoever the stranger was, he was in a deep sleep, and though Daemon tried several times, he couldn’t wake him.
So that left him no better off than before. Frowning, unease curling like a cold knot in his stomach at the unfamiliar surroundings, Daemon turned towards the door he’d illuminated briefly and moved towards it.
He needed to find out where he was and how he’d gotten here. And then find out how to get back to the Hall…
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