Nightshift 33: Doctor's Office 9 (Dr Sohma)
[From here]
Hallelujah walked into the room, looking around in the dim glow of the flashlight. Sparse was the first impression, boring and utilitarian, although the bookcase made it seem warmer, not that it made much difference to Hallelujah. It was enough to know that this was the office of a hated doctor. Well, it might provide something useful or interesting anyway if he poked around for a bit. He swept the torch over the bookcase, staring in disinterest at the array of books.
The desk looked like it might be more promising. There was a vase on the desk and a photo frame which he promptly ignored in favour of rifling through the desk drawers, pulling them out violently and dragging out the contents. Anything that he wasn't interested in, files and papers and sketch pads, wee thrown carelessly over his shoulder and onto the floor. His hand hovered over some of the items though and he took a fountain pen for himself. It was sharper than the biros that he had, would make a better weapon.
He was about to throw the pills and the cigarettes away too when Allelujah stayed his hand. Take them he ordered.
"We don't smoke."
Other people do. They might trade for them, or they'd work as bribes. The pills are good in case we get hurt.
Hallelujah didn't see what the point of trading was, but he grabbed the cigarettes and pills anyway. Allelujah was better at this kind of planning anyway.
He took one last look around the room before deciding that there was nothing left to ransack. He headed over to the door again and back out into the corridor.
[To here]
Hallelujah walked into the room, looking around in the dim glow of the flashlight. Sparse was the first impression, boring and utilitarian, although the bookcase made it seem warmer, not that it made much difference to Hallelujah. It was enough to know that this was the office of a hated doctor. Well, it might provide something useful or interesting anyway if he poked around for a bit. He swept the torch over the bookcase, staring in disinterest at the array of books.
The desk looked like it might be more promising. There was a vase on the desk and a photo frame which he promptly ignored in favour of rifling through the desk drawers, pulling them out violently and dragging out the contents. Anything that he wasn't interested in, files and papers and sketch pads, wee thrown carelessly over his shoulder and onto the floor. His hand hovered over some of the items though and he took a fountain pen for himself. It was sharper than the biros that he had, would make a better weapon.
He was about to throw the pills and the cigarettes away too when Allelujah stayed his hand. Take them he ordered.
"We don't smoke."
Other people do. They might trade for them, or they'd work as bribes. The pills are good in case we get hurt.
Hallelujah didn't see what the point of trading was, but he grabbed the cigarettes and pills anyway. Allelujah was better at this kind of planning anyway.
He took one last look around the room before deciding that there was nothing left to ransack. He headed over to the door again and back out into the corridor.
[To here]