Test Challenge
To See Them as They Are
CI
Eames, Goren, Ross, Rodgers (inspired by Daphne Du Maurier's Blue Lenses)
Eames woke slowly to the pain and haze. The smell of antiseptic assaulted her senses and exacerbated the throbbing in her head. Through the fog that surrounded her she could discern shapes. As the shapes moved and spoke the welcoming sound of her partner's voice came to her.
"B...Bobby?"
The shape moved into her vision--the familiar hands and girth--then a shock--Bobby was wearing the mask of a bloodhound. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"What...why.." was all she could stammer. He took her hand.
"You took a brutal blow to the head--a perp on Angel Dust. We didn't...didn't know if you'd make it. You're in the hospital. You don't remember?"
Eames shook her head and shrunk away from the bloodhound with her partner's voice. The dog looked up and beckoned to unseen companions. "You have other visitors here. We were all concerned."
The forms moved close to the bed. "Eames, you gave us quite a scare," said a stallion with her Captain's voice. "Yes," echoed a vulture, it's beak tipped with blood. "I was afraid you might end up in my morgue."
Eames eyes widened and an involuntary scream came from her throat. Was this some kind of test, she wondered. What had happened? The bloodhound trotted into the hall to summon the doctor.
**************
Two hours and a heavy dose of tranquillizer later, she saw them as she knew them. They all had a good laugh at the sustained effect of her injury, which had now apparently abated. As her visitors left to let her rest, she asked Rodgers for a mirror. She wondered if her face held any effects from the assault.
Holding the mirror to her face she gasped, for there, staring back at her, was the sly, crafty face of a fox.
CI
Eames, Goren, Ross, Rodgers (inspired by Daphne Du Maurier's Blue Lenses)
Eames woke slowly to the pain and haze. The smell of antiseptic assaulted her senses and exacerbated the throbbing in her head. Through the fog that surrounded her she could discern shapes. As the shapes moved and spoke the welcoming sound of her partner's voice came to her.
"B...Bobby?"
The shape moved into her vision--the familiar hands and girth--then a shock--Bobby was wearing the mask of a bloodhound. "How do you feel?" he asked.
"What...why.." was all she could stammer. He took her hand.
"You took a brutal blow to the head--a perp on Angel Dust. We didn't...didn't know if you'd make it. You're in the hospital. You don't remember?"
Eames shook her head and shrunk away from the bloodhound with her partner's voice. The dog looked up and beckoned to unseen companions. "You have other visitors here. We were all concerned."
The forms moved close to the bed. "Eames, you gave us quite a scare," said a stallion with her Captain's voice. "Yes," echoed a vulture, it's beak tipped with blood. "I was afraid you might end up in my morgue."
Eames eyes widened and an involuntary scream came from her throat. Was this some kind of test, she wondered. What had happened? The bloodhound trotted into the hall to summon the doctor.
**************
Two hours and a heavy dose of tranquillizer later, she saw them as she knew them. They all had a good laugh at the sustained effect of her injury, which had now apparently abated. As her visitors left to let her rest, she asked Rodgers for a mirror. She wondered if her face held any effects from the assault.
Holding the mirror to her face she gasped, for there, staring back at her, was the sly, crafty face of a fox.