Night 18: Intercom, Midnight

[damned_intercom]

The intercom's announcement didn't begin with a hiss this time. It was a faint clicking, first faint, then louder, as if the Head Doctor's hand was underneath his desk and slowly turning a volume dial up as he rapped the tip of his pencil upon his desk's surface

Comments

[clone_boy]

Darman thought something about the voice on the intercom sounded a bit different tonight. He wasn't quite sure; something with the pitch sounded off, different from what he'd grown accustomed to in the few days he'd been in this prison, but it could just be a malfunction in this facility's primitive communications. At least the clone felt well rested: he'd gotten in a bit of sleep, but the click of the doors unlocking brought him instantly awake.

Removing Azel's sword from its place in the closet, where he'd left it behind the thick bundle of coats, Darman carefully lifted up his gray prisoner's tunic, and inspected his stomach. Just a thin, white scar, not even ridged, went in a diagonal line from where he'd taken that hit from the kid the other night.

He still needed to find Azel and get answers about that encounter. When Darman wanted answers, he got them.

Personally, he didn't really feel much up to a little bit of enthusiastic interrogation tonight.

Breathing a soft curse to himself, the clone straighted, made sure he went through his daily stretches to keep limber, and left the confines of the cell, hand around the hilt. Once out in the hall, Darman hefted the blade carefully, testing its weight with one hand as he flicked on the primitive glowrod with the other. The light flickered on, yellow, weak and pale, yet bright enough to show him that something had changed since last time. The layout of the hall looked different than last night.

Darman paused for the briefest moment before it clicked: one of the other prisoners had mentioned that they seemed "change" the layouts of the prison halls - for demoralizing purposes, naturally - but he certainly hadn't expected it to be this quick. There wasn't any signs of construction debris or tools he could see, no ticker tape or anything. He hadn't heard much either.

Not my problem right now, Darman thought with a frown. Azel was the problem and he intended to confront said problem. Face set, the clone marched down the dark hall with a purposeful stride.