Night 49: Courtyard
((From here.))
Ludwig had no explanation for what happened next. One moment he hopped through a shattered window, leading to the outside, already preparing himself for a dash into the next building over... and the next, he was in a courtyard, a lake stretched out before him and rain lashing his face. Once more, he had no explanation for how this had transpired, for he knew this place, even in his short time in the Institute and even with the rain stinging his eyes.
Somehow, in an instant, they had gone from a zombie attack in a mechanic's garage, running for their lives, to... this. Ludwig stared blankly for a moment, then weakly swung his flashlight along the ground. They were at the door leading back into the Institute, and to his chagrin, the man couldn't see any signs that they had ever been in the mechanic's shop. There was no glass on the floor- even with the weather, it should shine in the light, no signs of rust, nothing to mark their passing. Save only for the heavy monkey wrench in his hand, the one clue that remained out of place, there was no sign they had ever been anywhere else. And yet it was there, challenging him with its impossibility.
His mind ached as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened. In quick succession, they had gone from a hallway, to a garage with zombies breaking through the windows, to the courtyard. The entire process had taken less than ten minutes, probably not even five. Even as healthy as he was, he doubted he could run all the way from the hallway to the courtyard without breathing harder than he was. Even more than that, the garage was the only place he could have gotten the wrench from, for he had no idea if he'd even be able to find one in the Institute, and he certainly hadn't spent the time necessary to look.
It was, in short, a physical impossibility for which he had no possible rational explanation. His mind blanked, reeling with trying to come to terms with something so patently absurd, and in the back of his mind, he calmly and rationally decided that perhaps, in some way, he truly had just gone mad. Occam's razor cut very finely here: the most rational explanation, and the one with the fewest extraneous elements, was that he was insane. But he didn't stop there. Instead, he turned to Donna, his voice a tiny bit strained as he shouted above the downpour, "Did we... really just go from the town back to the Institute by jumping through a window?"
Ludwig had no explanation for what happened next. One moment he hopped through a shattered window, leading to the outside, already preparing himself for a dash into the next building over... and the next, he was in a courtyard, a lake stretched out before him and rain lashing his face. Once more, he had no explanation for how this had transpired, for he knew this place, even in his short time in the Institute and even with the rain stinging his eyes.
Somehow, in an instant, they had gone from a zombie attack in a mechanic's garage, running for their lives, to... this. Ludwig stared blankly for a moment, then weakly swung his flashlight along the ground. They were at the door leading back into the Institute, and to his chagrin, the man couldn't see any signs that they had ever been in the mechanic's shop. There was no glass on the floor- even with the weather, it should shine in the light, no signs of rust, nothing to mark their passing. Save only for the heavy monkey wrench in his hand, the one clue that remained out of place, there was no sign they had ever been anywhere else. And yet it was there, challenging him with its impossibility.
His mind ached as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened. In quick succession, they had gone from a hallway, to a garage with zombies breaking through the windows, to the courtyard. The entire process had taken less than ten minutes, probably not even five. Even as healthy as he was, he doubted he could run all the way from the hallway to the courtyard without breathing harder than he was. Even more than that, the garage was the only place he could have gotten the wrench from, for he had no idea if he'd even be able to find one in the Institute, and he certainly hadn't spent the time necessary to look.
It was, in short, a physical impossibility for which he had no possible rational explanation. His mind blanked, reeling with trying to come to terms with something so patently absurd, and in the back of his mind, he calmly and rationally decided that perhaps, in some way, he truly had just gone mad. Occam's razor cut very finely here: the most rational explanation, and the one with the fewest extraneous elements, was that he was insane. But he didn't stop there. Instead, he turned to Donna, his voice a tiny bit strained as he shouted above the downpour, "Did we... really just go from the town back to the Institute by jumping through a window?"