The floor, walls, and a bit of the ceiling of the hallway looked like the outtakes of a slasher film. S.T. had smelled worse. Most of this was fresh. It only took a few molecules of putrescine to short out the part of the brain that kept the gag reflex under conscious control, even with a normal nose, but all of this was fresh. Correction -- most of it. He swallowed hard, and thanked experience.
"The cell blocks are usually pretty quiet. Four of them, three for guys and one for women." He ticked off the directions to each as he talked. "Looks like tonight is special on all counts. Lucky you."
New night, new freakshow. About the only thing that was constant. "Everyone here has been kidnapped. Except the bastards running the show, and even there I'm not sure." Doyleton didn't work. The small-town gig was spray-painted on a bunch of zombies (literal, not some kind of nihilistic analogy), but the supply chain looked like Earth. Everything being trucked in via transporter beam made more sense. "You, me, everybody. Either your brothers have been, and they're playing angry monster bait like you were, or they're back home, hearing some bullshit story about how you flipped out and got yourself committed."
no subject
The floor, walls, and a bit of the ceiling of the hallway looked like the outtakes of a slasher film. S.T. had smelled worse. Most of this was fresh. It only took a few molecules of putrescine to short out the part of the brain that kept the gag reflex under conscious control, even with a normal nose, but all of this was fresh. Correction -- most of it. He swallowed hard, and thanked experience.
"The cell blocks are usually pretty quiet. Four of them, three for guys and one for women." He ticked off the directions to each as he talked. "Looks like tonight is special on all counts. Lucky you."
New night, new freakshow. About the only thing that was constant. "Everyone here has been kidnapped. Except the bastards running the show, and even there I'm not sure." Doyleton didn't work. The small-town gig was spray-painted on a bunch of zombies (literal, not some kind of nihilistic analogy), but the supply chain looked like Earth. Everything being trucked in via transporter beam made more sense. "You, me, everybody. Either your brothers have been, and they're playing angry monster bait like you were, or they're back home, hearing some bullshit story about how you flipped out and got yourself committed."