NIGHT 54: West Wing, North Hall 1-A
[From here.]At least if he couldn't soothe anything else, he could soothe the flashlight. While it seemed to rebel by flickering a few more times, the light stayed steady otherwise. So now, on top of attempting to supply himself with blood so he didn't randomly select a new victim and get stabbed between his ribs again or set on fire, he had to
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As Harvey made his way down the hall, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of obstacles they were going to run into this night. He didn't know if anything could beat that bouncy ball, but he also didn't want to set the bar too low for this place. He didn't know if the previous night had just been particularly unlucky, but he wasn't going to get his hopes up about this one either.
At least he and Jones would have a better chance of getting around unscathed if they had two other people with him -- provided that those two were both competent, anyway. He wondered how the archaeologist's arm was doing after the night before. Even thinking about the resulting burn wound made him somewhat queasy. He had gotten used to his own situation, but the thought of the act of burning itself didn't sit well with him for obvious reasons.
He wished he could just get over the trauma of it, but that apparently was going to take time. He didn't do therapy.
Shaking his head, he strode down the hall with his flashlight pointed forward.
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