Night 19; Outside M20
Vincent didn't eat dinner. His stomach had been churning sickly all day, and the thought of food was sickening. For any killing he'd done all those decades ago, last night was one of the most grisly things he'd ever witnessed. Participated in.
Brooding was a good word for what he'd been doing all afternoon and evening, lying flat on the hard mattress and staring moodily at the white ceiling marred only by the intercom speaker. There were seventeen small drops of marred paint and five structural cracks.
As the "head doctor" spoke, Vincent just closed his eyes.
Three nights he and Cid had encountered monsters, fought tooth and nail to survive, and now he was just being stupid. Selfish.
Sitting up after the harsh voice on the other side of the glass silenced, Vincent waited for the now familiar click of a lock and stood, snagging the flashlight under his pillow as he moved deftly into the hallway. He was going for a walk.
Brooding was a good word for what he'd been doing all afternoon and evening, lying flat on the hard mattress and staring moodily at the white ceiling marred only by the intercom speaker. There were seventeen small drops of marred paint and five structural cracks.
As the "head doctor" spoke, Vincent just closed his eyes.
Three nights he and Cid had encountered monsters, fought tooth and nail to survive, and now he was just being stupid. Selfish.
Sitting up after the harsh voice on the other side of the glass silenced, Vincent waited for the now familiar click of a lock and stood, snagging the flashlight under his pillow as he moved deftly into the hallway. He was going for a walk.