Nightshift 46: Entry Room
[from here]He wandered through as carefully as one could when in a rush to move. This was ridiculous. He was lingering too much on sentimental thoughts. If he wanted to get anything accomplished tonight, he needed to maintain his focus. A hospital this large with this many people... There must have been a surplus of information to find. And if this
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However, he hesitated before pulling the door open. Yes, he was fully aware his opinion of people in general here was pretty negative, but the truth was people were not actually that dumb. He knew that. So it was impossible to imagine that, in the history of those imprisoned here (over a month or so at least), not a single person considered trying the front door. Someone had to have tried. Yet the hospital practices continued. That had to mean using the front door did not work for one reason or another. Either people were unable to find their way to a phone or... something else had happened.
He stared at the door before him for a few moments, took a deep breath, and cautiously opened the door.
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Where... was this? How could a mental facility, even from an outsider's perspective, be built in such an isolated area? He couldn't even see a faint, distant glow that would indicate a city of any kind. Venturing out was like begging to get lost. Or worse.
As he continued to stare, he could hear... something. He couldn't quite identify it. It could have been movement. Or perhaps it was just the wind shuffling branches and leaves. No, wait. Yes, he was quite sure that was movement out there somewhere. There was also an unidentifiable set of sounds. Grumbling? Breathing? No, no, that was surely just ( ... )
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He turned his back on the door and simply stood there, consciously breathing in and out and trying to rid himself of that sensation. Oh, that had not helped his paranoia at all. Traveling in the dark didn't sound like a terribly intelligent idea at the moment. In fact, he wasn't sure how he was going to muster the strength to move much of anywhere alone. Nor did he want to stay in that room anymore.
A few shaky breaths later he finally managed to start walking again. He couldn't think about this. If he did, he'd end up a distraught, trembling mess within the hour. Klavier needed distraction, a focus. Anything. Let's get back to the investigation, shall we? If one could really call it an investigation. Difficult when he barely knew what to look for anymore or where to find it. Too much to consider, too many factors beyond his control. It was grating.
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The door behind the desk, however, seemed like it would be anything but. "File Room," it indicated. A part of him wondered why the room would be so blatantly labeled, but it might be best not to look a gift horse in the mouth, as the saying went. Besides, it seemed the find wasn't all that lucky seeing as the door was locked. ...Because evidently, locking the file room door was more important than locking the front door. Ach. Whatever.
So now what? Surely this was a problem he would run across again. They had to lock down anything that would hold something significant. Should he look around for keys? He had even less of an idea of where to find that than he ( ... )
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