When Barnaby awoke and slipped his glasses over the bridge of his nose, he wasn't surprised to hear the Head Doctor addressing them over the intercom. This was apparently something that happened every day, so he knew to expect it now. Unfortunately, blacking out and waking up in a bed wasn't something he was completely unaccustomed to, but Barnaby had to admit that he wasn't used to it happening with such regularity. Not only that, but his wasn't an isolated case, which made all of this even more disconcerting.
Every day brought more questions than answers, it seemed. The moments right before his blackout were particularly disturbing. Barnaby wasn't sure how their captors had managed it, but this place apparently had the resourced to change them all into something that wasn't human anymore. Moreover, they didn't seem to care whether they all lived or died.
The rash, meanwhile, had crept further up his arm like a snake coiling across his skin. Although it didn't itch, he noticed his knees were more wobbly this morning. Barnaby wasn't sure whether it was a result of the fatigue he'd been feeling, or something else, but he knew he didn't like it.
He would have to observe the other patients to get a better idea of how many people were in the same boat as him. First, though, Barnaby wanted to use the current shift as a way to get a better look at the second floor. As a result, he informed the nurse he wanted to go to the Chapel this morning.
It wasn't as ornate as some of the chapels one would see in a book or on television, but that was hardly surprising. After settling down on a pew, Barnaby picked up one of the hymnals and flipped through the pages. Nothing pointed toward any clear denomination, and after a moment he put the black book back.
There wasn't much for him to do now except pass the time. Nurses lined the room, watching them like hawks in order to keep them from sneaking out of the chapel undetected. Barnaby folded his arms over his chest, and he silently wondered how many of them underwent such an excruciating-looking transformation each night. Closing his eyes, he was only left with the surrounding quiet, and his own thoughts.
no subject
Every day brought more questions than answers, it seemed. The moments right before his blackout were particularly disturbing. Barnaby wasn't sure how their captors had managed it, but this place apparently had the resourced to change them all into something that wasn't human anymore. Moreover, they didn't seem to care whether they all lived or died.
The rash, meanwhile, had crept further up his arm like a snake coiling across his skin. Although it didn't itch, he noticed his knees were more wobbly this morning. Barnaby wasn't sure whether it was a result of the fatigue he'd been feeling, or something else, but he knew he didn't like it.
He would have to observe the other patients to get a better idea of how many people were in the same boat as him. First, though, Barnaby wanted to use the current shift as a way to get a better look at the second floor. As a result, he informed the nurse he wanted to go to the Chapel this morning.
It wasn't as ornate as some of the chapels one would see in a book or on television, but that was hardly surprising. After settling down on a pew, Barnaby picked up one of the hymnals and flipped through the pages. Nothing pointed toward any clear denomination, and after a moment he put the black book back.
There wasn't much for him to do now except pass the time. Nurses lined the room, watching them like hawks in order to keep them from sneaking out of the chapel undetected. Barnaby folded his arms over his chest, and he silently wondered how many of them underwent such an excruciating-looking transformation each night. Closing his eyes, he was only left with the surrounding quiet, and his own thoughts.
[For Anise!]