Stormfall
[It's dinnertime, and the stormclouds have rolled in, thick, black, and ominous. Heavy rain is battering the windows, streaking the glass and turning the outside world hazy; the scene seems to melt over and over as the rain streaks down. People begin milling out of their rooms. The hallways are brightly lit as always. Cold and sterile and bright- until every single patient is out of their rooms and in the halls.
Thunder erupts, the rolling boom so loud and vibrant it makes the glass rattle in its frames. The lights go out. Somewhere there's a cry of panic; somewhere, there's the sound of glass breaking. Everywhere, the doors to the patient rooms slam shut and click. Those who try to open the doors in the darkness find themselves locked out of their rooms. Lightning flickers again, and it seems as though the shadows momentarily fracture, split off from the people they're attached to and dissipate into the darkness.
Soft wet sounds; the stench of iron; heavy breathing and pained groans; suddenly it's certain that you're no longer alone.
And when the emergency lights come back on, hazy and greyed out, there are severed bodies sprawled all along the halls in pools of blood, and there are new shadows walking out in the distance. Ones that look painfully familiar.
There's no sound from the staff. No way back into your rooms. No intercoms, even- the speakers on the walls are eerily quiet, and have no microphone to pick up noise. The storm rages on.
... what will you do now?]
Thunder erupts, the rolling boom so loud and vibrant it makes the glass rattle in its frames. The lights go out. Somewhere there's a cry of panic; somewhere, there's the sound of glass breaking. Everywhere, the doors to the patient rooms slam shut and click. Those who try to open the doors in the darkness find themselves locked out of their rooms. Lightning flickers again, and it seems as though the shadows momentarily fracture, split off from the people they're attached to and dissipate into the darkness.
Soft wet sounds; the stench of iron; heavy breathing and pained groans; suddenly it's certain that you're no longer alone.
And when the emergency lights come back on, hazy and greyed out, there are severed bodies sprawled all along the halls in pools of blood, and there are new shadows walking out in the distance. Ones that look painfully familiar.
There's no sound from the staff. No way back into your rooms. No intercoms, even- the speakers on the walls are eerily quiet, and have no microphone to pick up noise. The storm rages on.
... what will you do now?]