full_score
in
damned
Night 49: File Room 1
((From here.))
As soon as Claude stepped through, he reached out toward the side, half-expecting, half-hoping to find the same cabinet he'd bumped into earlier. When his fingers brushed against a shockingly cold, metal surface, however, Claude felt himself grow tense. Was this place...different? Gritting his teeth, he ran his hand along what he soon realized were rows of filing cabinets stacked on top of each other, their handles poking out from the metal at seemingly precise intervals. No simple storage cabinets, no plastic boxes, no bottles of pills. Before he'd realized it, he'd reach the end of the dark room, and he painfully smacked his forehead against another row of filing cabinets ahead.
Moisture stung at his eyes as he leaned against the wall. Using the heel of his palm, he rubbed at the place on his head, and was grateful to find he hadn't cut himself or anything. Not that it exactly mattered when he'd already gone through so much tonight, but he was already frustrated enough without any lasting proof of what he'd just done to himself.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, though, it definitely looked like he was getting tossed to different places in the building each time he stepped through a door. It almost reminded him of the Field of Intelligence back on Nede, except there were definite pads for him to step on before he got transported somewhere else, and he hadn't been on the verge of going blind. Back then, there'd been some logic behind where people got sent, but here? Claude wasn't so sure he could count on anything to be so cut and dry in Landel's.
Claude turned toward where he'd come from. Thankfully, this room was pretty small, which meant there was a lot less ground to cover to the door. At this rate, he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold out before he ran out of strength. Maybe his luck would pick up before it came to that point. He had to keep telling himself that, at any rate.
He closed his eyes when his sweaty palm reached the door's handle again, and he forced himself to open it once more.
((To here.))
As soon as Claude stepped through, he reached out toward the side, half-expecting, half-hoping to find the same cabinet he'd bumped into earlier. When his fingers brushed against a shockingly cold, metal surface, however, Claude felt himself grow tense. Was this place...different? Gritting his teeth, he ran his hand along what he soon realized were rows of filing cabinets stacked on top of each other, their handles poking out from the metal at seemingly precise intervals. No simple storage cabinets, no plastic boxes, no bottles of pills. Before he'd realized it, he'd reach the end of the dark room, and he painfully smacked his forehead against another row of filing cabinets ahead.
Moisture stung at his eyes as he leaned against the wall. Using the heel of his palm, he rubbed at the place on his head, and was grateful to find he hadn't cut himself or anything. Not that it exactly mattered when he'd already gone through so much tonight, but he was already frustrated enough without any lasting proof of what he'd just done to himself.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, though, it definitely looked like he was getting tossed to different places in the building each time he stepped through a door. It almost reminded him of the Field of Intelligence back on Nede, except there were definite pads for him to step on before he got transported somewhere else, and he hadn't been on the verge of going blind. Back then, there'd been some logic behind where people got sent, but here? Claude wasn't so sure he could count on anything to be so cut and dry in Landel's.
Claude turned toward where he'd come from. Thankfully, this room was pretty small, which meant there was a lot less ground to cover to the door. At this rate, he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to hold out before he ran out of strength. Maybe his luck would pick up before it came to that point. He had to keep telling himself that, at any rate.
He closed his eyes when his sweaty palm reached the door's handle again, and he forced himself to open it once more.
((To here.))