The night kicked off with another cryptic, creepy message from the Head Doctor. A rebel? Was he talking about Jill, or maybe another comrade of hers
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Ruby lay on her bed, glaring up at the ceiling. While being able to play the hurt girl last night had been nice (in a way), dealing with the consequences this morning had really gotten on her nerves. She was used to injuries healing in a matter of hours, if not sooner, but her leg still throbbed and she found herself walking with a distinct limp.
She remembered being a human rather well. What she didn’t remember, however, was how annoying it was.
Ruby had been in and out of her room all day, mostly in. She had milked her “accident” (or very bizarre suicide attempt; the nurses hadn’t really been clear on which it was) for all that she could, claiming that she didn’t feel ‘well’ enough to mingle. The only exception had been the shower. They’d wrapped her leg in plastic to keep the twenty-odd stitches from dissolving before they were ready and away she went.
On her way out of the Sun Room after her shower, she’d noticed Sam’s note. It had been kind of hard not to notice it. Years of hunting had mad Sam extremely careful when it came to disguising his handwriting, and yet that had been so sloppily done that he might as well have put up neon signs. And he was staying in? Well, that wasn’t really like him either.
Naturally, the only choice was to pay him a visit. They needed to talk more anyway.
She remembered being a human rather well. What she didn’t remember, however, was how annoying it was.
Ruby had been in and out of her room all day, mostly in. She had milked her “accident” (or very bizarre suicide attempt; the nurses hadn’t really been clear on which it was) for all that she could, claiming that she didn’t feel ‘well’ enough to mingle. The only exception had been the shower. They’d wrapped her leg in plastic to keep the twenty-odd stitches from dissolving before they were ready and away she went.
On her way out of the Sun Room after her shower, she’d noticed Sam’s note. It had been kind of hard not to notice it. Years of hunting had mad Sam extremely careful when it came to disguising his handwriting, and yet that had been so sloppily done that he might as well have put up neon signs. And he was staying in? Well, that wasn’t really like him either.
Naturally, the only choice was to pay him a visit. They needed to talk more anyway.
[going here.]
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