He loved the smell of unabashed anarchy in the morning.
Though he'd been nothing short of stunned upon entering the Cafeteria, he caught on with fair swiftness. The exhibition of injured nurses and orderlies was enough to excite him, encouraging a perverse satisfaction with the situation, despite how utterly screwed to hell they'd be if Landel called in the cavalry; but even a judgment as rational as that couldn't falter the stimulation. An awfully wide grin spread crookedly across his lips, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent as he spotted an employee with their back turned.
Dean made to march forward, eager sights locked on the target-
"Mr. Patterson, don't you dare!" A disapproving voice sounded behind him as a cold, relentless hand gripped his forearm, and he grunted in the same second as something stabbed him. He knocked the woman off kilter with a furious elbow in the face, hissing a last curse when he observed the mother of a needle in her hand. His legs crumbled from beneath him soon after.
--
He thought he'd heard someone in the room, yet once he'd sluggishly propped himself up on one elbow, he duly noted there wasn't a soul in sight. The man gazed about with narrowed eyes, heaving a disgruntled sigh at how much effort it took to simply twist about and grab the flashlight from under his pillow. Like I just had a month-long nap, he thought, peeved by the faintness he experienced when he then got to his feet. He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to ward off his current state.
"Ugh," he groaned unreservedly. Whatever they'd shot him with packed one hell of a punch.
He paced slowly toward the closet, that little bit extra required to work his legs. Setting a blank stare on the clothes, he was momentarily motionless before shaking his head and muttering unintelligibly, seizing the amulet and nothing else.
M38
Though he'd been nothing short of stunned upon entering the Cafeteria, he caught on with fair swiftness. The exhibition of injured nurses and orderlies was enough to excite him, encouraging a perverse satisfaction with the situation, despite how utterly screwed to hell they'd be if Landel called in the cavalry; but even a judgment as rational as that couldn't falter the stimulation. An awfully wide grin spread crookedly across his lips, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent as he spotted an employee with their back turned.
Dean made to march forward, eager sights locked on the target-
"Mr. Patterson, don't you dare!" A disapproving voice sounded behind him as a cold, relentless hand gripped his forearm, and he grunted in the same second as something stabbed him. He knocked the woman off kilter with a furious elbow in the face, hissing a last curse when he observed the mother of a needle in her hand. His legs crumbled from beneath him soon after.
He thought he'd heard someone in the room, yet once he'd sluggishly propped himself up on one elbow, he duly noted there wasn't a soul in sight. The man gazed about with narrowed eyes, heaving a disgruntled sigh at how much effort it took to simply twist about and grab the flashlight from under his pillow. Like I just had a month-long nap, he thought, peeved by the faintness he experienced when he then got to his feet. He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to ward off his current state.
"Ugh," he groaned unreservedly. Whatever they'd shot him with packed one hell of a punch.
He paced slowly toward the closet, that little bit extra required to work his legs. Setting a blank stare on the clothes, he was momentarily motionless before shaking his head and muttering unintelligibly, seizing the amulet and nothing else.