Night 58: Medical Wing Hall

[spandexorgtfo]

[from here]The front desk and the adjoining break room had been the extent of his knowledge from the night prior, so in this next section, Kratos did take the time to carefully observe the scenery. There were two paths that split off straight ahead and to his left, while to his right were a series of identical, plain doors. Somehow, that row

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[ninelivesonce]

[from here]

Being sick once or twice might have had its advantages.  Taura had never been down these halls, day or night, and they twisted and turned.  All she needed was a first aid kit, one that hadn't been tampered with.  Some antibiotics and a little pick-me-up and she could get started on what she'd come here to do.

A pair of wide doors looked promising.   Locked, even more promising.  If this were a ship, and it certainly had the serpentine layout of one, this would be the main sickbay.  She kicked the door latch in with a single strike -- that barely stung, while the multiple minor bruises on her shoulder appeared to have formed a coalition and were marching on both fronts. Collarbone ridge and Elbow bend, both under siege.  Thinking about it that was helped.  At least she could laugh at it.

Even if she was dying, which seemed likely.  She was used to doing that.  Everyone was, with every breath they took.  She'd take hers deeply, for as long as she could.

[to here]

[warning: description of self-injury]

[ninelivesonce]

[back from here]Taura ran down the hall, instinct kicking in and keeping her footsteps silent as she raced towards the quietest, deepest corner. There, she leaned against the wall, breathing far harder than a short run should have required. She poked her shoulder with one of her artificial claws; pus ran out, foul smelling and fouler looking. She had to resist the temptation to lap at it, especially when she pressed harder and a bit of clean blood welled up through the infection