Night 66: Main Hallway, 1-West

[dualistic]

[From here.]

That hadn't taken long. So much so that it looked like he was the first person to make it this far. Harvey took a moment to scan the hall with his flashlight, including near the stairs, but he didn't see (or hear) much of anything. It was the sort of thing that set him on edge.

Since he couldn't do much else, he leaned himself against the wall by the stairs and then grabbed for his gun, holding it near his side as he waited. Normally he didn't take the weapon out unless he planned to shoot it, but when there was a possibility that some transformed patient might come barreling down the halls in the next few seconds, he wanted to take precaution.

Hopefully Scott and Sangamon would haul ass over here before all hell started to break loose. If things got too hairy, Harvey was ready to make a run for it on his own. That was the logical thing to do.

[Waiting for S.T.]

Comments

[dualistic]

The thing staring at its sword like it might have the answers to all of life's questions was the only reason that Harvey was able to regain his balance and maneuver out of the way before it attacked again.

Sangamon had a point. With the face covered in bandages (and what hid under them looked like a skull, a sight that made his blood run cold), it was pretty clear that it was either a zombie or one of the transformed patients. Seeing how no one had really had much reason to be around Doyleton lately, the latter seemed more likely.

He hadn't expected to get caught up in this, especially when it didn't even involve them. Sangamon stepped forward to attack, but Harvey didn't know what they were waiting for. They had an easy way out of here. "Let's just put on the bracelets!" he yelled to Sangamon as he clutched his bleeding arm with the opposite hand. At this point, he didn't care if Scott was running late. It seemed idiotic to stay here and fight a losing battle when they had a getaway option burning holes in their pockets.

[somesoulsearching]

He may have seen the attack coming through the darkness. Or maybe it was because he hadn't that he was soon missing a chunk of rotten flesh and bone where one of his eye had been. Either way, the mummy did little in response to the hit except take it.

His head cracked with the force of the human's attack, the pipe caving in his skull down to an empty socket. The hit thrust his head off at an impossible angle, possibly snapping a decaying bone somewhere in his neck. By the sound, any number of things could have broken besides the obvious, though it made little difference. The mummy couldn't feel pain and likely wouldn't have cared if it had possessed the ability.

Yet he still managed to moan with the pipe lodged in it's skull. The kind of moan that, while clearly reflecting a lacking mental capacity, somehow managed to resonate with faint traces of annoyance or even anger of some sort. A zombie kind of moan.

With no blood shed a second time and the human so close, the mummy stabbed his sword out wildly, aiming low as he looked for a further hit. More blood, more tearing flesh. He would get it here.

[toxicspiderman]

The guy's skull crunched like a pumpkin under Roscommon's beat-up station-wagon. And stuck. S.T. yanked. Bits came loose, but the pipe didn't. Harvey had the right idea. He let go of the pipe and grabbed for Harvey's shoulder.

His other hand went into his back pocket. His fingers hit the ring first. It was as good an option as any. He ran it up the zipper on his jeans like a match, and the garnet crumbled.

Just as the sword finally found something other than air. It was a technicality at best, but it counted. Three of them disappeared, leaving only a few splatters on the floor to show that anyone had been there.

[to here]