redcladidealist (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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damned_institute2013-03-25 10:49 am
redcladidealist) wrote in damned_institute2013-03-25 10:49 am
Entry tags:
Night 69: Disciplinary Therapy Corridor
[From here.]
He had no idea where he was. He couldn't see a thing and he hadn't been awake when the nurses had brought him here. Even so, once he darted out into the hall, he couldn't help but feel relieved. He knew he wasn't safe, but at least he was out of that room, as though distance could somehow separate him from what the doctor had done. He swallowed, trying not to think about it, about the cold lump that felt like glass that sat in a metal crest on his hand. His father's Exsphere.
His father.
Think about it later. He had to force himself to take a breath. I can't do anything about that right now. Focus on what I have to do now. That meant finding a way out of here and preferably finding some light.
A few steps brought him back to a wall, and from there he followed it by feel. One direction was as good as another, and as many doors as he could go through, the harder it would be for anyone from the Institute to track him down. There. There was the frame of a door. He tried the knob, this time with his good hand, but it refused to turn. Should he try to break it down?
No. See if there's something easier first. He didn't want to beat himself against wood or metal unless he needed to.
Another door. Another door. Door after door that was locked. He counted five before the hall he was in turned, ending in another door. This one wasn't locked.
[To here.]
He had no idea where he was. He couldn't see a thing and he hadn't been awake when the nurses had brought him here. Even so, once he darted out into the hall, he couldn't help but feel relieved. He knew he wasn't safe, but at least he was out of that room, as though distance could somehow separate him from what the doctor had done. He swallowed, trying not to think about it, about the cold lump that felt like glass that sat in a metal crest on his hand. His father's Exsphere.
His father.
Think about it later. He had to force himself to take a breath. I can't do anything about that right now. Focus on what I have to do now. That meant finding a way out of here and preferably finding some light.
A few steps brought him back to a wall, and from there he followed it by feel. One direction was as good as another, and as many doors as he could go through, the harder it would be for anyone from the Institute to track him down. There. There was the frame of a door. He tried the knob, this time with his good hand, but it refused to turn. Should he try to break it down?
No. See if there's something easier first. He didn't want to beat himself against wood or metal unless he needed to.
Another door. Another door. Door after door that was locked. He counted five before the hall he was in turned, ending in another door. This one wasn't locked.
[To here.]