Who says crack houses are dangerous?
Alice lay there on the cold floor able to see everything and do nothing. She watched the man in bandages leave, she heard him talk about the knife, she watched bugs scurry past her face and most importantly, she watched Crane’s laboured breaths across the room.
The amount of drugs in her system was putting her at risk for a heart attack or overdose of some kind, but all it really did was make her brain feel numb and the rest of her body hurt like hell. It was a bearable pain, but pain nonetheless. Tolerable like getting a tattoo. Constant.
Her eyes were either on the blade in the floor or on Crane at all times. She urged her fingers to move. Hours passed. Without even realizing it, she brushed a strand of hair from her face--- then it hit her.
With her newly regained mobility, Alice forced herself into a sitting position. The pain flared all around her, in her veins, and now in her temples. She let the worst of it pass before crawling to the knife and pulling it out of the floor. She then made her way to the wounded doctor that had been terrorizing her only hours before.
“…Dr. Crane? Can you hear me?” She asked quietly with a voice hoarse from lack of use. She removed his mask carefully, wouldn’t do to have someone see him in that, and checked him for injury. She really hoped he had a cell phone on him so she could call an ambulance.
The amount of drugs in her system was putting her at risk for a heart attack or overdose of some kind, but all it really did was make her brain feel numb and the rest of her body hurt like hell. It was a bearable pain, but pain nonetheless. Tolerable like getting a tattoo. Constant.
Her eyes were either on the blade in the floor or on Crane at all times. She urged her fingers to move. Hours passed. Without even realizing it, she brushed a strand of hair from her face--- then it hit her.
With her newly regained mobility, Alice forced herself into a sitting position. The pain flared all around her, in her veins, and now in her temples. She let the worst of it pass before crawling to the knife and pulling it out of the floor. She then made her way to the wounded doctor that had been terrorizing her only hours before.
“…Dr. Crane? Can you hear me?” She asked quietly with a voice hoarse from lack of use. She removed his mask carefully, wouldn’t do to have someone see him in that, and checked him for injury. She really hoped he had a cell phone on him so she could call an ambulance.