Night 50: West Wing, South Hall 2-B
[from here]
Klavier continued to hum the song lightly as he moved down the hallway. It actually was doing wonders to calm his nerves and keep his mind on the task at hand. Though his target was further down the hallway, he kept note of the doors he was passing on the way. Nurse's Station. Hmph. He wondered if any of the staff were actually in--
Disciplinary Therapy? Klavier stopped right in his tracks and simply stared at the door in question, horrified. What the heck was "Disciplinary Therapy?!" He'd never heard anyone discussing anything by that name before. Considering what the word "therapy" tended to mean in this place, he couldn't help but feel his heart stutter to a stop for a moment. Dear God... What was this? Bad behavior, as the staff described it, had always been punishable via use of sedatives as far as he'd seen. He'd never heard of other... extreme measures.
Actually, no. The word "discipline," it could have referred to taking care of people who were potentially "troublesome" for the staff. What if this is where the "released" patients were being held? Or maybe this was where they were taken beforehand. Could it have been possible Kristoph had been right up here this entire time?! He immediately tried the door, but it was locked. That fact alone pretty much steeled his resolve... as well as pushed his temper. Klavier spat a curse in German and kicked the door hard in frustration. (Ow. Toe... Oww... Okay, don't do that again.)
But there was no possible way he was letting something stupid like a lock force him back. Herr Doktor was keeping them in here. He had to be. If not them, then others. It couldn't be allowed to continue any further. He didn't know... He didn't know what he could do, but... He was not going to leave him behind. Luckily, Klavier had some moderate experience with breaking some of the locks on the doors here (see also: one). If he could do it then, he could do it now. Chiseling at the things didn't work. One had to give the blasted things a few good whacks before they snapped. So Klavier took a determined breath, shifted his grip on the pipe, lifted it up, and slammed it down on the lock as hard as possible.
...Of course, he hadn't thought about the fact that the recoil was going to hurt his bad hand. He grit his teeth, trying to keep the hiss of pain quiet. Let's... try that again but a little less carelessly, yes? Braced for it this time, he managed two more hits before the stupid thing snapped apart. Thank goodness. He didn't know if his bad hand could have taken too much more of that. Klavier pulled it off unceremoniously and simply threw it to the floor before rushing through the door, ready to face whatever he may see in there.
[to here]
Klavier continued to hum the song lightly as he moved down the hallway. It actually was doing wonders to calm his nerves and keep his mind on the task at hand. Though his target was further down the hallway, he kept note of the doors he was passing on the way. Nurse's Station. Hmph. He wondered if any of the staff were actually in--
Disciplinary Therapy? Klavier stopped right in his tracks and simply stared at the door in question, horrified. What the heck was "Disciplinary Therapy?!" He'd never heard anyone discussing anything by that name before. Considering what the word "therapy" tended to mean in this place, he couldn't help but feel his heart stutter to a stop for a moment. Dear God... What was this? Bad behavior, as the staff described it, had always been punishable via use of sedatives as far as he'd seen. He'd never heard of other... extreme measures.
Actually, no. The word "discipline," it could have referred to taking care of people who were potentially "troublesome" for the staff. What if this is where the "released" patients were being held? Or maybe this was where they were taken beforehand. Could it have been possible Kristoph had been right up here this entire time?! He immediately tried the door, but it was locked. That fact alone pretty much steeled his resolve... as well as pushed his temper. Klavier spat a curse in German and kicked the door hard in frustration. (Ow. Toe... Oww... Okay, don't do that again.)
But there was no possible way he was letting something stupid like a lock force him back. Herr Doktor was keeping them in here. He had to be. If not them, then others. It couldn't be allowed to continue any further. He didn't know... He didn't know what he could do, but... He was not going to leave him behind. Luckily, Klavier had some moderate experience with breaking some of the locks on the doors here (see also: one). If he could do it then, he could do it now. Chiseling at the things didn't work. One had to give the blasted things a few good whacks before they snapped. So Klavier took a determined breath, shifted his grip on the pipe, lifted it up, and slammed it down on the lock as hard as possible.
...Of course, he hadn't thought about the fact that the recoil was going to hurt his bad hand. He grit his teeth, trying to keep the hiss of pain quiet. Let's... try that again but a little less carelessly, yes? Braced for it this time, he managed two more hits before the stupid thing snapped apart. Thank goodness. He didn't know if his bad hand could have taken too much more of that. Klavier pulled it off unceremoniously and simply threw it to the floor before rushing through the door, ready to face whatever he may see in there.
[to here]