The escorting from his unusual cell back through the crowd of people was bizarre enough.
It made returning to the door Carlisle had entered to arrive here, opening it, seeing the utter quiet and dank of familiar tunnels, jarring.
He walks through the door expecting another cell.
Carlisle is standing in the hallway. Outside of his former
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For him to walk through the Door.
To catch the Door, silent in pale fingers, before it closes.
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Everything is all wrong. It all hurts, a blinding sort of headache just behind her eye. Her jaw muscles clench in annoyance.
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Carlisle's mental voice is becoming fainter as he accelerates through the passageways.
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