Night 42: Intercom, End of Night
"I know it's you."
The voice was low, heavy, and wasn't preceded by any kind of static. Those fighting the creatures in the town below couldn't hear it, but everyone in the Institute did - and might have been surprised at the serious quality of the Head Doctor's tone. His breathing was also audible, and the quality of the broadcast was so uncharacteristically clear that any patient listening carefully enough could hear the sound of otherworldly moans and the steady thump of flesh against a thick wooden door.
Someone yanked out a desk drawer.
"You did this, you and whoever took you out of here. I'm not stupid."
He mumbled those words again - "I'm not stupid" - like a chant as he fumbled with something near the microphone.
"I guess you don't care anymore. About collateral damage. I always knew you were on your own side, you bastard."
A series of metal objects clinked against the top of the desk as they fell from a box. The Head Doctor cursed as he gathered them up, then continued with renewed vehemence.
"At least I would never stoop to-"
The thumps gave way to cracks. The Head Doctor's voice trailed off and he was silent as the sound of moaning grew louder. There were more sounds of metal against metal, then the cocking of a gun.
The Head Doctor's quiet words were nearly drowned in the cacophony: "I was loyal..."
The door gave way. Someone began shooting and the loud boom of the microphone hitting the floor could be heard along with the sound of feet shuffling against a carpet.
From far away, it seemed, the Head Doctor gave a cry of pain, then hit the wall with a thud. Suddenly, the shambling stopped and the moans quieted as a new set of footsteps traversed the room, slow and deliberate.
The steps stopped. The Head Doctor took in a breath, and then laughed.
"You look worse than your dogs."
Something crashed into a sheet of glass before hitting the ground. The Head Doctor was wheezing now, but still laughing through it.
"Why? Revenge? You were always so short-si-"
Something cracked, and the Head Doctor yelled in a way most patients had never thought possible. When he spoke, he was no longer laughing, but speaking quickly, desperately.
"I still have her! Her! Did your brain rot too? You can't get her if I'm dead!"
Landel's breathing was sharp and labored in the subsequent silence. Something stepped towards him, yanked him up hard enough to make him whimper.
The voice was guttural, unnatural. But still unmistakable.
"Neither can you."
The Institute went dark.
The voice was low, heavy, and wasn't preceded by any kind of static. Those fighting the creatures in the town below couldn't hear it, but everyone in the Institute did - and might have been surprised at the serious quality of the Head Doctor's tone. His breathing was also audible, and the quality of the broadcast was so uncharacteristically clear that any patient listening carefully enough could hear the sound of otherworldly moans and the steady thump of flesh against a thick wooden door.
Someone yanked out a desk drawer.
"You did this, you and whoever took you out of here. I'm not stupid."
He mumbled those words again - "I'm not stupid" - like a chant as he fumbled with something near the microphone.
"I guess you don't care anymore. About collateral damage. I always knew you were on your own side, you bastard."
A series of metal objects clinked against the top of the desk as they fell from a box. The Head Doctor cursed as he gathered them up, then continued with renewed vehemence.
"At least I would never stoop to-"
The thumps gave way to cracks. The Head Doctor's voice trailed off and he was silent as the sound of moaning grew louder. There were more sounds of metal against metal, then the cocking of a gun.
The Head Doctor's quiet words were nearly drowned in the cacophony: "I was loyal..."
The door gave way. Someone began shooting and the loud boom of the microphone hitting the floor could be heard along with the sound of feet shuffling against a carpet.
From far away, it seemed, the Head Doctor gave a cry of pain, then hit the wall with a thud. Suddenly, the shambling stopped and the moans quieted as a new set of footsteps traversed the room, slow and deliberate.
The steps stopped. The Head Doctor took in a breath, and then laughed.
"You look worse than your dogs."
Something crashed into a sheet of glass before hitting the ground. The Head Doctor was wheezing now, but still laughing through it.
"Why? Revenge? You were always so short-si-"
Something cracked, and the Head Doctor yelled in a way most patients had never thought possible. When he spoke, he was no longer laughing, but speaking quickly, desperately.
"I still have her! Her! Did your brain rot too? You can't get her if I'm dead!"
Landel's breathing was sharp and labored in the subsequent silence. Something stepped towards him, yanked him up hard enough to make him whimper.
The voice was guttural, unnatural. But still unmistakable.
"Neither can you."
The Institute went dark.