NIGHT 64: MEDICAL WING HALL

[envy_the_sinners]

_{[From here]}

Looking around, Scar wasn't quite sure what to expect upon this returning visit to the medical wing. It was silent, for now. Scar shined his light around each corner as he moved silently through the room, ready for something to jump out at him at any moment. He wasn't sure of what to expect, but he held his scalpel at the ready with his free hand. It was feeble protection at best, but Scar was a sitting duck without his alchemic arm.

He still wasn't sure if he would actually want it back, though.

Comments

[envy_the_sinners]

As soon as Scar tried to move, his legs gave out and he landed hard on his hands and knees. He was losing too much blood, and the gashes in his legs had rendered them useless. The Ishbalan said nothing in response to Loki's taunts, his hands curled to fists as he stared at the floor. He was furious and dizzy and broken, but most of all, he was humiliated. Loki had bested him so easily. Loki would always best him in everything, and he would always manage to make Scar feel like dirt while doing so.

The drive he had felt as he left his room only minutes previously was all but gone.

Scar made his way to the door he had just come in through like an abused dog, blood still running down his legs and back. His clothes were caked with it. He would not give Loki the pleasure of watching him die.

_{[To here]}

[complicatedliar]

Loki watched Scar go, a slow, amused chuckle his only comment at the man's choice. The better of the two presented, really, so he must have had a stray neuron bouncing around in his otherwise hollow skull.

He made no attempt to clear up the blood now smeared across the floor. The better to excite paranoia, which in turn made his job easier.

He wrapped himself in invisibility and waited, calculating twenty digit prime numbers in his head to pass the time. Hopefully he wouldn't be kept waiting long.