Enter Death Incarnate, stage right. He certainly looks the part; Tall and lanky, dressed in mourning black with an added miasma of icy detachment. This is not a man you take lightly or scorn ignorantly, for your demise can be oh so easily painted as 'natural causes' or an 'accident'.
Still, no matter one's profession, walking in to a very
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"What the hell...?"
Clutching his head tiredly, Kiriko sat up slowly, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The soldier wondered, for a moment, if he had been sent to the war hospital... Had he been attacked? He couldn't remember a thing...
And when he realized with a jolt he was the only patient to be seen, that the far-off ambiance of gunfire was nowhere to be heard, that there were no windows or makeshift walls, and that there must be a reason the nurses were so distantly placid, his relief gave way to a fiery panic.
I've been locked up... someone locked me up...!He was out of his bed with a shot, begging the nurses for clarity. But no matter how loudly he shouted or how long he pled, they gave him no answers, speaking cryptically and with fabricated sympathy. One even stroked his hair calmly with an eerie and sinister smile ( ... )
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Finding another person in this prison of a place would have been a welcome thing if there hadn't been something that made him stop and stare. There was a fuzzy familiarity and an uneasiness that accompanied it, and it momentarily threw Kiriko off.
"Do I... happen to know you?"
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Startled by the ghoulish man who had suddenly appeared, the younger copy jumped back, instinctively reaching for the gun he didn't have. Defenseless and livid from his soldier's instinct, all he could do was glare in return - the look of a cornered animal.
He would have shouted if there wasn't something so.. uncannily familiar about this person... It was almost nostalgic.
"Get.. Get away from me...!"
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"Calm down, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a prisoner here just as much as yourself."
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