Play@YSDC

Even more peculiar. Was Dr. Dullard a part of some cult? Here at the hospital?

"It would help if I could talk with someone who works here..."

Peering around the bookshelf he pushed over the window, he looks for any sign of this Cinemaplex refered to.

Thinking it best to keep this evidence, he reclaims his briefcase and puts the book inside, moving on to the leatherbound volume to see what else the Doctor is in to.

It is too dark to see anything outside. Assuming they were spying on the hospital with binoculars, it would make sense if they were across the road.

The leather-bound volume appears to be some kind of bible. The first passage:

We of the Fragile Bond must remain as kin. Where one needs aid, there shall be the brother to aid him. Where one needs friendship, there shall be the sister to befriend them. Where one needs advice, there shall be the father to advise him. And where one needs solace and spiritual protection, there shall be the mother to give to him. For the Fragile Bond is wrought not with steel but with care, love and compassion and from this shall spring the safety and security of our unknowing brethren.

"Certainly sounds like a cult." Aidan remarks to himself. He stuffs the tome into his briefcase to take a look at when he's found a safer place to examine them, feeling rather exposed in what feels more and more like Dr. Dullard's little temple.

He withdraws the sheath of letters and looks them over.

They're scented love letters addressed from a Dr. Sutcliffe. They're full of the usual mushy stuff - yet spoken more sweetly, softly, more romantic than cheesy. It seems the two have had quite the illicit affair going on. They seem to have loved each other very much.

"Hmm, I guess even crazed cultists have a soft spot."

Aidan returns the letters, finding himself unable take them, despite having taken everything else he's found so far.

Lastly, he picks up the queer Ankh to examine its nature.

It feels cold to the touch and reflects the light strangely. Other than that, it appears somewhat normal. It appears to be made of a similar, albeit differently colour metal, as the curved metal spike.

Aidan feels like a petty thief, but with some hesitation he takes the Ankh and the spike, placing them in his jacket pocket. He doesn't know what purpose they could possibly serve, or what reason he might keep them, but having something feels comforting.

The spike is far too large to fit in the jacket pocket and its curved nature alone would make that awkward. It comes out slightly straight for three inches, and curves around quite severely. It would make an awkward weapon, even, though its tip is quite sharp (10% chance to hit, 1d8 damage).

Ah, my mistake.

"Well, it will do until someone happens to drop a samurai sword or a machine gun." He laughs to himself, even though it's more just to comfort.

"Well, I do believe I've pilfered everything of value from here..."

With his briefcase in one hand and the spike in the other, he leaves the office.

There is no one in the main area.

"Sigh... Back to this game."

Returning back to his path, he wanders down the hall, spike in one hand, briefcase in the other and goes to the Staff Counselor room. He sets down the briefcase and tries the handle.

The room is empty of life. A flashlight sits upside down, its light shining off the note held beneath it. In solid, black texta are the words: "I have two. Here you go."

"Ha! About time!" Aidan exclaims, feeling rather triumphant until he finds the note underneath.

"Well, that's a little creepy..." He remarks, trying shake off the shivers the finding gives him. Unsure of what to do, he writes down his cellphone number on the note along with a counternote "Thanks! Call me."

Having been given the gift of light again, he can make his way down the the Children's Ward. Awkwardly holding the briefcase handle and the flashlight in the left hand and the spike in his right, he starts towards the stairwell.

His cellphone beeps. He's been sent a text message.

Aidan leaps into the air with surprise, dropping the briefcase. He stummbles as he lands, panting with terror. Realizing what actually happens he feel sufficiently unmanly, again.

"I'm glad nobody saw that." He remarks, checking what the message is.

The cell phone registers the other mobile phone as having a silent number.

As Aidan's shocked breathing begins to slow down, he becomes faintly aware of having heard the term 'g man' before. It's not his current case but one long, long ago. The voice of a child who had vanished from a similar hospital only to call him during the night, desperate and alone.

The child had spoken too quickly and he had been tired and drunk from a night on the town. He could hardly even understand him and what little he had heard made no sense. Then there had been a large, high-pitched noise and someone had hung up the phone. It had been nightmarish. No signs, no clues, the police had been at a loss.

The floor below beckons to him. The ash floats lazily in the air like dust might in an old building. A snack vending machine had released its load of candy bars across the floor. A ball of wall had been dropped near where a person's half-finished knitting sits on the bench. The ball had rolled across the floor before stopping somewhere near the middle.

Aidan shakes his head at this turn. Somebody has to be messing with him, at least, that's the only thing that makes sense. Someone has a pretty sick sense of humor to be screwing with people in a situation like this, and this guy hit a nerve. He tries to shake off the feeling that somebody is watching him. Right now he has bigger problems to worry about. Though he's sure it's in vain, he tries the callback on the message.

As he's waiting for a reply, he stoops over to pick up the candy from the candy machine, checking the the pacakges to make sure they're intact. He can only assume that the circumstances have left the children distressed, candy might be of some comfort. Whatever's intact he will stuff into the briefcase.

There are dozens of candy bars, skittles, Mars Bars, Snickers, along with chips packets. His briefcase already contains papers, however, and so he can't fit very many. If he emptied his pockets and briefcase of waste materials, he would certainly be able to fit enough to give a snack to all of the children in the Children's Ward. Fortunately, none of them appear bad. When opened, they ever smell good.

"Very good." He thinks to himself. He spends a few minutes discarding papers from his briefcase and tossing away things he doesn't need until his can stuff his briefcase and jacket pockets with all the candy he can manage.

Having stocked up, he heads to the stairwell, illuminating the way with his new flashlight.

As he heads down the stairwells to the Fourth floor, he can hear an odd rythmic thumming sound coming from outside that seems to be getting nearer. His mobile phone rings - a call this time.