Play@YSDC

They had left her laying on the bed, her pale blonde hair swept from her face, her blue eyes gently closed to hide the emptiness. Her body was limp, the wrinkles on her face somewhat smoothed out. Her chest no longer rising and falling.

No more...

Footsteps in the corridor. Intruding through the open door even as the people pass. A few more minutes, hopefully, before they take her way. A rattling sound in one of the vents. The gaps seem to be filled with a hard white substance.

Close the door, dear, I'm tired.

Almost as if she spoke. He could almost hear her. Almost see her turn toward him, her eyes still closed, her face creasing in a smile. Could almost hear the soft rasp of her hospital gown on crisp white sheets.

They're so loud. I can't sleep with them traipsing down that corridor all the time. Please, dear, close the door.

Bernard steps inside the ward. He tries his best to keep quiet. She was always a light sleeper. The styrofoam cup warms his hands and he walks to her bed. Her face looks relaxed, happy, like she was before the sickness. When he notices that her hest isn't moving, everything slows down. The cup slips from his hands and hot coffee splashes on his legs and accross the floor. He thinks he hears an alarm or something, but everything is so numb right now. He leans against the wall and wills himself not to cry.

Close the door, dear, I'm tired.

Insistent repetition. Yet wasn't it just a thought in his own head? Yet louder then his grief. Stronger.

What's on the telly?

Her eyes were open, staring at the wall on the other side of her. The remote lay beside her left hand. The television set was fixed to the top left corner of the room.

Bernard shakes his head, so tired. He pushes himself off the wall and goes over to the door, pushing it closed. He then walks to the chair behind his wife's bed and picks up the remote control. As he turns on the TV he lets out a long slow breath.

Static filled the television screen but it isn't absolute. It's almost as though the television is tuned in between channels and little bits and pieces of a television show can be glimpsed. Something twists and contorts behind the static, twirling and encircling, coalescing and expanding. Disgustingly organic like maggots in a corpse on a time-lapse camera. Or tapeworms, squirming together.

The sight made him feel nauseas but there are words beneath the static. No, not words, but something else. He could swear he can hear something and if he only pays more attention, listens more closely, he can find out what it is, yet part of him rebels against the idea of comprehension. Part of him doesn't want to here. The urge to cover his ears and close his eyes seems almost overwhelming. But so is the curiosity, the sense of something just beyond his senses, soon to be revealed.

Something doesn't seem right. Bernard heaves himself out of his seat and walks out of the ward and into the hall. He should tell someone about his wife. Shouldn't there be an alarm or something?
"Hello? Is there anyone here? My wife is..." He chokes on those last words.

The nurse's station is empty. There are no nurses walking around although there are still a few patient's families visible in the corridors. The static of the television he had not yet turned off provides a lure at his back. Now that he has left the ward, a thrill of excitement and a twinge of disgust affect him both equally strongly, at the prospect of going back there and watching the television set.

Had their been an announcement? He can't be sure. Someone had spoken over the intercom but he had been too overwhelmed with grief to notice.

As tempting as the static is, Bernard cannot rest before letting someone know what happened to his wife. He stops the nearest family. "Can you help me? My wife just passed. I need to tell a nurse. Have you seen them? Where are the nurses and doctors?"

An elderly man being led along by his family, dragging some sort of IV contraption along with him, pauses and turns his bleary eyes on Bernard. "There's been an emergency," he says sharply. "They're all tending to people who need attention far more than your dead wife!" Then he ambles off, his family muttering about Bernard's selfishness as they went.

The floor does seem so much more vacant than before. The nurse's station contains one gray-haired, middle-aged nurse. There are no other doctors nor nurses in view.

Bernard walks over to the nurse's station and gets her attention. "Pardon me Miss, but my wife has just died, in Ward 15. Her name is Martha Cromwell. I understand that there is an emergency situation, and I'd understand if you needed the ward space. Do you need any help, I could direct people at the very least." He just needs to stay busy, he doesn't want to hear the static.

The phone rings and the nurse hurries over to it. "Please, take a seat, sir. We'll work something out later." Then she turns her attention to the telephone.

Bernard goes back to his wife's room if he is ignored for more than 10 minutes. Once there he will watch the TV.

The blare of static is almost comforting as he sits down on the visitor's chair. The sight of the twisting something-or-other beneath the heavy haze of static most certainly is not. It tears at his mind, leaving him confused and numb. His chin sinks towards his chest, he finds it hard to breathe. It's so hard, so very hard.

Images flash across the screen. He can see them now. The screams of twisted creature's haggard features. Water rolling back of the shore of something terrible. Twisting vines of dripping black dangling from the sky. A voice that shatters glass. A rolling front of white-hot trembling air coming forward. Flesh flayed from bones.

A man faces a woman with a knife. She intones, her hands twisting through a number of bizarre gestures, snake-like, intense, wrong. The man's face twists in pain, his limbs jerking back, pustules cross his face, blistering, fluidic, his eyes clouded with blood, growing red, the blood running along lines in his blistered face. He turns to the television screen.

The sight of people barricading their homes, running sticky tape along the edges of doorways and windows. A view of black ash passing before their house, lights flickering, but not coming into it.

A group stand out on the hills, their faces upturned, mouths slack. The camera begins to rotate upward. A sense of terrible dread fills Bernard. A warning to close his eyes or switch off the television. A wave of adrenaline forces aside the numbness.

Do you continue watching?

Bernard stares at the television screen. He is transfixed. What is coming from the sky?

The speakers emit a high-pitched frequency and the television set explodes in a cloud of sparks.

As the television explodes Bernard comes out of his stupor. He begins to relaize parts of what he saw on the tv. He gets up and takes stock of ward 15. How many beds are there? How many occupied? Are there any sinks? Is there any tape? Would wet linen work to block the gaps? Is there anyone who can help?

There is only one bed in this ward, complete with sheets, a blanket and a pillow, with a green curtain that can be drawn across the railing to give his wife some privacy. There is a little bedside cabinet that contains his wife's clothing. White linen curtains billow in front of the open window, letting in the sweet aroma of baking from somewhere outside. There is no stationary or sticky tape in the room although he might be able to get some from the nurse's station or the front desk. The gap between door and wall is to thin to stuff with blankets, but something thinner could be placed around the door, which could then be shut, thus putting a lining within the gaps.

Bernard has to try and warn the Nurse at the station. Before he does that, he tries to get a look at the approaching cloud to see how much time he has.

Watching the television seems to have taken more time then he might have hoped. The dark clouds are just starting to nibble at the edges of the sun. They seem to be moving somewhat quickly. At this rate, he might have ten or twenty minutes before they pass overhead. Maybe.

Bernard decides to secure the room before warning the crowd. He's not wasting time while people waffle around. He takes the curtains down and closes the window. He checks to see if there are any gaps when the windo is shut and locked. After that he checks to see if any of the fabric he has available (curtains, sheet, wife's clothes, robe) would work for blocking the gaps on the door. He takes the most suitable fabric and after making any alterations needed he fits them around the door. Once that is done he checks for any other gaps (vents?) and then goes to the nearest vending machine. He buys all the jerky, snack cakes he can, and a few bottles of water and stocks Ward 15. After he deems the room easily securable, he will warn the nurse and invite anyone he sees to shelter with him.

The floor appears to be somewhat deserted. Handbags, coats and other refuse have been left behind. He didn't hear the panic, or whatever it was that caused everyone to move, though perhaps it occured while he had been occupied with the television screen. As he buys out the vending machine, he notices the floor has become slightly darker as less light is received through the windows. Of course, the fluorescent lights more then make up for that. Catching a glimpse through a nearby window, he sees that the black cloud has rolled inexorably closer.

The telephone at the nurse's station is ringing, as are many other telephones on this floor.

After securing the food and water in the Ward, Bernard takes a glimpse outside. If there is still time before the cloud hits, he answers the phone. "Hello, this is the third floor's nurse's station at Mercy Cross."

The cloud has completely annihilated the source of sunlight. He can see it in the distance, close enough to tell that it is some sort of dust cloud, though the dust is black. There seems to be enough time so he does go an answer the phone.

Dozens of voices scream for his help, beg for information, ask names of people, doctors, nurses, their names unknown to him. It is as though the entire switchboard has suddenly gone through this single telephone. The voices make his ears ache. They're so loud, so needy.

Bernard tries to speak, but the noise drowns out his consciousness. Reluctantly, he resigns himself to putting the phone back on its cradle. He can't help these poeple. It hurts him, but he knows he can do more if he survives the initial cloud. He goes back to Ward 15 and seals it off.

It doesn't take very long to entomb himself in the room. Now that the curtains are stripped from the windows, he has a wide view of the outside world. Many people are attempting to leave the car park. The roads beyond are clogged with vehicles, some attempting to barge their way through, some sitting and waiting. All seems hushed, though, he can't even hear the honking of horns.

Bernard sits and contemplates the cloud. It doesn't seem to be a chemical agent that he'd ever had experience with. From what he'd seen on the TV it could have been a corrosive or a blister agent, but it's vctor seemed odd. Where was it coming from? It seemed to be nigh inexhaustable. He wonders if the people is the cars would be ok.

The cloud stretched across the horizon. The sun was low enough to be obscured, but certain of the taller, nearby London buildings stood taller than the cloud. It seemed the cloud only reached up to the fifth floor, though perhaps that was merely a sign of the clouder spreading itself too thin. It's impossible to know if all of London above the fifth floor were free of it.

As the cloud approaches, Bernard thinks of Helen.

The cloud reaches the window and he can see grey particles floating, visible in the light from his own ward. Outside, he sees nothing but a random headlight of a stopped car. He can't see any movement outside, nor can he see the lights of the buildings on the other side of the car park. Voices call out in the hospital, the voices sounding strained and fearful, then the voices became screams, most terrified, some twisted beyond recognition, some almost alien. Someone pounds on the door, begging to be let in.

"Please, oh please, oh please, let me in, don't let me die out here, oh god, oh god, what was that, let me in!"

Bernard yanks the door open. "Get in here, hurry!" He tries to get the person inside as quickly as possible, the he will shut the door and barricade with his chair.

He manages to draw the person inside, slamming the door shut in the process, and still manages to keep the seal in place. A middle-aged pregnant woman blinks slowly at him, her blue eyes wide, her blue shirt stretched over a swollen tummy, her blonde hair hanging well down her back. She clutches her handbag in a fierce, white-knuckled grip.

As Bernard jams a chair under the door handle he introduces himself. "Afternoon, Ma'am. I'm Bernard Cromwell, US Army, retired. I'm not sure what's going on outside, but I'm sure its not good. Make yourself comfortable, I have some blakets left there. Tell me about yourself. What's your name, how far along are you?"

The woman goes to get one of the blankets and wraps it around herself. Her lips are blue, her skin very pale, her body trembling so hard he could hear her teeth chatter. Her eyes roved slowly around the room, finally settling on the body of his wife on the bed. She stared at the woman for awhile, then jumped a little, as though only now realising that she was in the same room as a dead person.

Bernard keeps an ear on the door and tries to kep the woman relaxed. "Dear, tell me about yourself. We're probably going to be holed up here for a bit. What did you see outside?"

The only response is her heavy breathing.

Bernard goes over to the woman, performing a standard evaluation of a casualty.

She backs away, eyeing him cautiously. She seems to be breathing all right and she certainly is alert. As far as he can see, there's no sign of injury.

She gestures at her right ear and shakes her head.

Bernard shakes his head and mutters "stupid old fool" to himself. He looks at the woman and points to his mouth. "Can you read lips?" He mouths slowly, no sense in making noise when none is needed and may indeed draw unwanted attention. He tries to remember where his pen and pad of paper are at.

She nods her head.

Bernard tries looking in the desk by his wife's bed for stationary, he uses her charts if he can't find any. It would be easier for her to communicate with him if he could find some. He mouths at her, "When in your child due? What is your name? Are you comfortable, is there anything I can do?" and various questions. He tells her his name and explains why he is here and about his wife. Once these questions are out of the way he asks about what happened outside, in the hospital.

The woman writes down: Je ne comprends pas.

Bernard scowls, thinking that this is going to be difficult. He thinks he might know a few phrases, although he is not fluent. "Tu es francais? Je parle un peu de francais. Je suis Bernard Cromwell. Mon femme, Martha, est morte. Comment es tu, ca va?" He jots these down hpoing for a response that he might understand. All the while he listens at the door.

Bernard can hear footsteps echoing down the corridor. They sound magnified, somehow louder than they should be. The pregnant woman, in the middle of writing down her name, 'Meliss...' hears it too and starts backing away from the doors. The temperature seems to drop dramatically, causing both their breaths to come out in little clouds of condensation.

Bernard puts a finger to his lips to signal Melissa to be quiet. He readies his mace. (I take it there is only one door. But if there is another, Bernard seeks an alternate exit if he needs too.)

The footsteps stop shortly before the door. Melissa hushes. The only thing he can hear is the sound of her breathing. The fluorescent lights begin to flicker.

If something comes through the door without identitifying itself, it gets sprayed with mace.

The windows behind him crack. The cracks begin to grow, twisting through the glass and spreading outward to the walls.

As fast as he can, Bernard soaks a sheet with water and presses it against the glass. He uses anything he has, his pin on rank, syringe, pens, to tack it to the wall. He wants to keep the particulate matter outside the room.

The toilet sink sputters and coughs before unleashing a clumpy stream of off-white liquid onto the sheet. The stench is apalling, much like off milk. The walls of the toilet and the ward beyond are plaster-bound brick so it should be a relatively simple matter to pin it before the window if he so felt. However, keeping it pressed against the glass will be an issue since the window is quite large and the window frame somewhat deep.

Beranrd stretches the sheet across the window frame, pining it to the wall. As soon as he can, he grabs as sheet and wraps it aroud his face. He visulally instructs Melissa and helps her if time permits.

Melissa steps away from the sheet, a look of disgust clear on her face. The stench of the white gunk that has been smeared across Bernard's sheet to dampen it makes his head spin.

OOC: I'm assuming you used another damp thing for your face? Tell me if I'm wrong.

OOC: I think there has been a miscommunication. I have a sink? I had bottles of water earlier. I apologize for not catching this earlier. Bernard was opening bottles of water and soaking the sheets with them. Whoops. Definetly not putting contamiinated rags on my face.

Okay, understood. THer's an attached toilet to your room which was what the post above mentioned. For convenience's sake, let's say you ran the sink water so you wouldn't need to waste your bottle water, saw it was yucky, and used bottle water. I'll post an edited post soon enough.

OOC: Due to the fact this is largely down to my own misunderstanding, I won't penalise you for the time you take! Free time! Yay.

As the toilet is within a few feet of Bernard and the sink within close to the door, he dashes inside and turns on the tap before he can so much as ready the towel. The toilet sink sputters and coughs before unleashing a clumpy stream of off-white liquid onto the basin. The stench is apalling, much like off milk. Bernard quickly grabs one of the water bottles and pours it out onto the sheet.

The walls of the toilet and the ward beyond are plaster-bound brick so it should be a relatively simple matter to pin it before the window if he so felt. However, keeping it pressed against the glass will be an issue since the window is quite large and the window frame somewhat deep. [b]Bernard[/b] stretches the sheet across the window frame, pining it to the wall.

Bernard can't hear the window cracking any further. Unfortunately, there are only two sheets in this room, one of which was beneath the corpse of Bernard's wife and one which keeps the door held firm. There are two pillows in this room that have blue pillow cases. One lies beneath Bernard's wife's head. The other sits on the chair Bernard was using. The curtain that once ran along the rail is made of a green plastic-like fabric and would be difficult to breathe through.

OOC: Much thanks for the lenience. It's good to be back

Bernard starts to roll his wife to one side. Tears stream down his cheek. He motions for help in taking the sheet from the bed. He cannot remember how to say remove the sheets in French, and is becoming very despearate. He would like to set his wife on the floor. If he can, his next steps are to apply a wet shet to the window and fashion bandannas from the pillowcases for Melissa and himself.

Melissa helps where she can though her movements are as awkward as Bernard's due to her pregnancy. Between the two of them, they manage to move his wife gently to the floor. His wife is so light, in death, that it is almost as though he were lifting only the air itself.

Bernard manages to choke out the words, "Merci, Melissa." He now takes the sheet from the bed, wets it with bottled water, and pins it close to the window. Once this is done, he uses one pillowcase as a bag to carry supplies, and tears the other into masks for him and Melissa.

Melissa looks confused, her eyes pleading him for answers.

A voice sounds loudly on the Intercom in the hall. "Attention everyone! The water supply is contaminated. Do not drink or even touch tap water, or any standing water you come across. Use only water in bottles or other sealed containers. Do not go outside under any circumstances, and avoid all exits or places that are otherwise exposed to the outside. It is extremely dangerous out there, and there are small parasitical organisms that attack people and burrow into their flesh. Once that happens, they are transformed into something no longer human. These creatures are alive and have a pulse, and their mouths are full of fleshy fungal material. They will attempt to seize their victims and lock their mouths over the victims' mouths. If they succeed, the victim is rendered paralysed and helpless, and they will then try to force the fungus down the victims' throats. Keep your distance from them at all costs, and keep your mouths covered at all times! A surgical mask will work, but the fungus will eventually rip through it. Two masks will last longer. Towels could also be used. Do not go anywhere alone if at all possible. If you fall prey to one of these creatures, you will need someone else to get it off of you."

The speaker takes a deep breath and then continues: "There are other strange creatures and phenomena as well. The dark cloud that has covered the hospital is raining down a strange black ash. Its effects are unknown, but you should minimize your exposure to it. It can be wiped off with moist towelettes, but again make sure that you do not use tap water. Metal objects have rusted due to the arrival of this cloud, and have apparently aged decades in rather short order. You may notice that your sense of time is distorted, and people may seem to vanish. You may also see apparitions or hear voices of people you know. On the second floor there was an unknown creature that produced a whistling sound. If it approaches you, run. It is possible to outrun and escape from it. This is Nurse Sarah Carpenter. Stay safe, everyone."

Bernard starts at the sudden broadcast. A sense of relief lights his features as he realizes he and Melissa aren't the only ones alive in the hospital. He turns to speak to Melissa. "The loudspeaker just came on. There are other people alive in the hospital, a nurse, Sarah. We don't want to go to the 2nd floor" he flashes two fingers and runs a finger across his throat. "We could search the 1st floor, or try to get above the ash." He flashes 5 fingers. "We don't want to go outside."
"What do you want to do? Would you be okay alone, or should we try to find help?"

Melissa clutches at his arm and looks nervously at the door. She points to him, then herself, and moves behind him.

Bernard is glad that Melissa seemed to understand what he was trying to put out. He is also happy to be on the move, and eases himself towrd the door, putting Melissa's hand on his belt. He readies his flashlight and puts his ear to the door to do a quick listen check before they leave.

Bernard hears nothing outside the door.

Bernard eases the door open and tentatively steps into the hall. If it is too dark to see, he uses his flashlight. He tries to find a map on the wall. He wants to find some surgical masks and a weapon for Melissa. After he secures these items he wants to head upstairs in an attempt to rise above the ash and find survivors.

There is a map on the first floor, of that he is certain. He does recall that the main stairs are in the center of the large public area of each floor and the ramp is just near there. For surgical masks he'd need to find an operating theatre (downstairs) or a store room. The operating theatres are probably full of weaponry but the rest of the hospital likely won't have much but a few syringes, books and chairs. There is a fire extinguisher on the wall in the main area, however, that could be used in a pinch.

Bernard leads Melissa to the ramp in the public area of the third floor. He inteds to get past the second floor as quickly as Meliisa's condition allows, and find the map so he could navigate the hospital easier. He uses the flashlight only when neccessary and tries to be as quiet as possible to preserve noise and light discipline.

Each time he turns off the flashlight, he finds himself in total darkness. The ramp is at the other end of the hospital and it takes some time in getting there due to Melissa's slow gait. The entire floor reeks of abandonment. Ash motes float in the air, the floor is streaked with rust and mildew, and discarded personal possessions litter the floor. An eerie whistling can be heard from the opposite direction of the ramp. Above it all, he can hear crying coming from downstairs.

The Map is on the First Floor.

Bernard leaves the light on unless he needs to hide. He starts down the ramp with Melissa in tow.

The stairwell is stained with fresh blood. There seems to be a lot, though probably not enough to represent someone dying from it. The metal handrailings are knotted with rust and are dripping with moisture. He can peer through the railings at the first floor as he slowly comes down the stairs. The floor looks somewhat unsafe near the reception desk but fortunately, the map is over by the front doors.

The front doors are broken, ash billowing in, glass scattered across the floor, and a human arm hangs over the bottom part of the door frame, the body hidden behind the ash, darkness and the frame itself.

Bernard has Melissa stay back by the ramp, hiding, while he moves as quickly as he can through the ash to the map. He gets a piece of paper ready to make an etching or to draw a quick sketch map. After he gets locations for the OR bays he checks for a security station. Perhaps he could find a real weapon for himself. After that, he keeps his ears open for the crying. If he can't find anyone here it's back to Melisa.

There are no security stations but there are several operating theatres on the ground floor. There's paper and pens on the nurse's desk or the nearby offices that would allow him to sketch a map.

A phone rings persistently downstairs.

Bernard snags a pen and a pad of paper. After sketching a map he searches the operating floors for scapels or anything that might make a decent weapon. That damn phone is horrible. Can't answer now... the voices are too needful. He should get back to Melissa as soon as he can. Where is that crying?

The crying seems to be coming from the ground floor. That is where the operating theatres and all of the scalpels and other likely weapons are. He'd need to go down the stairs and turn left if he wanted to reach the operating theatres.

Bernard heads towards the operating theatres, searching for the crying.

Several operating theatres line the corridor. Each is stark and sterile, with scrubbing rooms and store rooms branching off the ends. Through one open door, he can see the corpse of a young boy, his flesh peeled open, his organs brought out and thrown to the floor. The grotesque scene bears signs of aggression and desperation. The crying sound comes from a further operating room, further towards the end. SAN loss 1/1d4+1.

Failed SAN check: http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1318918
SAN loss: http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1318924

Bernard stumbles, mind reeling, as he passes the open door. My God, to think that something, or someone, could do that to a little boy! Bernard is not going to stop in that room. He keeps moving toward the crying, something he can do something about.

In the furthest operating theatre, a woman stands by the sink, her face hidden in her bloodied hands, as she weeps. Her blonde hair has come partially loose from its bun, the strands going everywhere in a wild frizz. Her clothes are also wet with blood. She, herself, is small and frail-seeming.

Bernard moves closer, but stays out of arm's reach. "Miss, are you alright?" He tries to visually assess her condition and determine whether or not she can help Melissa. A nurse would be helpful.

She turns towards him, her once pretty face marred with hundreds of lacerations, her eyes firmly shut, and she presses herself against the counter. "Get away from me! No!"

"Shhh, it's okay. I have some bottled water, we can wash you up if you want. I'm with a young woman. We're trying to find more people for safety. Please, come with us. I can't stand to leave you down here."

The woman scampers across the room to the other corner and clutches the counter, again sobbing.

"hey, it's ok! Just what happened to you dear?" Bernard is considering an attempt to seize the girl, but is wary of spooking er even more.

"Yog-Sothoth ... the walls, 'tween now and yesteryears ... a thousand options and opportunities ... I see them all ... hunting, searching, looking for another ... and we're all broken in the middle ... shattered, ruinous, die here and join another ... but the 'nother is broken, it's broken all down the middle, and those who are there are already dead here yet they remember here as a melody but what can we do? The observatory peers through time but where did it go? The hospital here is an amalgamation, but our fears taint it more. There is someplace else but where?" The woman breaks down, weeping, and slides to the floor.

Bernard begins searching for supplies: scapels; masks, surgical one each; moist towlettes. As he gathers supplies, he speaks to the girl. "Listen Miss, I don't intend to stay here and babysit you. I have enough to worry about as it is. If you don't want to come with me, fine. But tell me more about this observatory. We need to get out of here."

The woman merely wept.

Once Bernard has secured all the medical supplies, masks, weapons, ec. in his pillowcase he turns to the girl. "OK miss, come along now." He gently tries to wash and apply first aid to her face.
http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1337557
29 success for First Aid

Bernard manages to reduce the pain she is in and he wraps the gauze around her eyes. She merely whimpers now.

Melissa gives Bernard a sad, imploring look.

"There now, that's a girl." Bernard says, trying to soothe the girl. He looks at Melissa and says, "Nous allons." He taps his watch face and holds up 5 fingers.

"Please, there are things out there," cries the woman, clutching Bernard's hands. "Terrible things! Where did they come? Why are they here? Will you help me?"

You may add 1% to any skill of your choice as a bonus for your cautious roleplaying.

Thanks Laraqua. I put the point into History.
IC: Bernard tries to sooth the girl. "Hush now miss. My name's Bernard Cromwell, and I have with me Melissa. What's your name? Now darlin, can you tell me if you can walk, or even run? Can you see well? We're going to have to find more people so we can be safe from the things outside. I want to search the hospital for more survivors, ok?" He Occasionall looks at Melissa, mouthing what he said to the girl.

The woman trembles. Her eyes firmly closed. "R-run? Run where?" she asks in a small voice. "There's nowhere left to go."

There's the sound of something metallic hitting the floor, somewhere else on the ground level, as though a tray had been knocked onto the floor, scattering its implements.

"It's coming," she whispers.

Bernard tenses at the sudden noise. He strains to get a direction and heading of the source of the noise. http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1385058
Bernard quickly scans for hiding places and escape routes. He hands scapels to the two women and readies his club and mace. If he can, he places the two women together, giving Melissa a squeeze on the arm for assurance. He puts them farthes from the door and places himself in ambush. He props his flashlight on the counter to provide illumination and waits.

The cupboards would easily hide them if some of the stuff kept inside was removed. It would be a tight squeeze, of course.

Bernard quickly opens a cupbard and starts removing items, placing them under the operating table. He asks the young woman for help, whispering "come on girl, let's get you hidden." and tries to get the point accross to Melissa.

Melissa starts bustling along beside him. Out in the corridor, lights are flicked on, one by one, coming close, brightening the operating theatres. The creaking of wheels can be heard against linoleum.

Bernard hustles the girls inside the cupbords when they're clear. If he can, he sneaks a peak outside at whatever is rolling down the corridor.

As he turns towards the door, he feels a wave of dread trickle down his spine. He takes a few steps forward, the dread and agony of fear causing his body to tremble, each step a complete contradiction of his urges, each step a complete denial of what his body screams. He makes it five steps before hesitating greatly. It is as though each step forward is into an abyss that yawns before him, making him dizzy with vertigo, and while there is only linoleum there, the fear and instinct is the same. Go back! Go back! His body screams.

Bernard cannot remember being this afraid in his life. He hurries for cover and attempts to hide.

There is a small room off to the side of the operating theatre where the surgeons would scrub up before operating. Seeing as there is not enough room in the cupboards, he hurries off into there. Peering around at the stainless steel sinks, the lockers, the other equipment, he feels at a loss of where to secrete himself. It seems the best place to go is to press his back against the wall by the archway.

He presses himself against the archway, with his mace in one hand and baton in the other. He tries to still his breathing and hopes the girls will do the same.

His throat twists with every creak of the wheels and an icy coldness clutches at his heart. His heart feels like its stopped and his lungs catch on a breath he didn't draw as it closes in towards where he assumes the door would be. Sweat beads his forehead, cold and catching the ash that floats on the breeze. He trembles so hard with fear he feels he might drop the baton (Stamina x 5 roll not to - if you do drop it, Dex x 5 roll to catch it before it hits the floor).

OOC:
CONx5-70 or below (1d100=21)
Bernard's heart threatens to burst in his throat. He almost loses his grip on his baton, but manages to keep it together. He hopes the girls are just as lucky.

The creak of the wheels turns and starts moving away. This operating theatre is at the end of the corridor. There is nowhere else it could have gone but inside the operating theatre. THe sense of relief as it leaves is palpable.

IC: Bernard lets out a small sigh. He listens to make sure the wheels are really receeding. Once they are gone, he begins rounding up the girls.

The two women are anxious, vulnerable, a far cry from the action heroines in the movies these days. The creak of the wheels fades into the distance until only the oppressive silence remains.

Then he hears, distantly, the sound of footslaps echoing in the full silence of the world around him and a voice, ever so familiar, calling weakly amidst coughs: "Bernard?"

His wife?

IC: Bernard stops midsentence. He chokes out a half whisper, "Helen?" His throat is tight, his eyes water, and his hands shake. He turns, starts towards the door, motiated by a deep, heavy grief. With an urgent needfulness he cries out, "Helen!?"

"Bernard?" calls Helen, sounding further away now and very weak.

IC: Bernard lurches through the doorway into the hall. He calls out for Helem once more, his eyes straining to see her.

The other two women follow shortly behind him, clutching at each other. He glimpses a woman in a hospital gown turning the corner from the operating theatre hallway to the great hall where the stairs up are. He can't be sure if it's her or not.

IC: Bernard stops momentarily, just now aware of the potential danger lurking somewhere in the coridors. After a brief pause to check for danger he follows the woman around the corner with the two women in tow. He tries to keep as quiet as he can.

The woman he was following is no longer in sight. Melissa comes close to him and clasps his hand, giving him a long, mournful look and then looking around in confusion at what the hospital has become.

Bernard shakes his head clear from the grief. He gathers Melissa and the woman and plans to usher them upstairs in search of people.

Sirens begin to wail. The sound pressure nearly swallows him, rumbling up and down through him. The other two women seem terrified of the sound and start trying to pull toward the double doors that exit the hospital. Through the glass, light can be seen. The hospital lighting fixtures wobble as the sound causes plaster to fall down in cracks and spotches. The place seems very unsafe.

Bernard is reluctant to venture outside the hospital. "Ladies, it might not be safe out there, but this place is liable to fall apart. Shall we? Be sure to tighten you bandannas around your face."

They huddle near him, sobbing, nodding their heads mutely to whatever he might suggest. The world outside seems brighter than within. Not well-lit ... but the darkness of an urban landscape rather than the true darkness of the abyss that has confounded his senses for so long.

"Alright ladies, it looks better. Let's make it. Miss, shall we go to the observatory and try to find where to go from there. This is no longer a simple surival mission. Something went balls up, and we have to fix it." At that, he takes the girls gently by the arm and heads for the door. Maybe he wouldn't see his wife outside.

They flee the hospital as it shakes and trembles, out into the parking lot beyond. Beyond that, beyond the rusting hulks of the vehicles, beyond the cold death of the night, is light. The headlights of a car trying to inch its way slowly through the tangle of vehicles. Its hard to see what's inside in the darkness that oppresses, drawing in around them like a blanket of ash.

Bernard looks hopefully at the lights. "Ladies, that is not some nightmare. Those must be actual people. Let's get their attention, but cautiously. No need to spook anyone." He then ties a piece of pillowcase to his club and starts toward the lights.

The three make it passed the crowding hulks of steel toward the vehicle. It becomes clearer that it holds two men and a woman (who sits in the passenger seat). These three don't seem to have noticed him. Luckily, though, the car is barely moving 2 miles per hour, so they had sufficient time to catch their attention.

Bernard makes his way toward the car, slowly waving his impromtu flag. He shouts "Survivors! Help!"

The three in the car seem to have noticed Bernard's cry. They're talking amongst themselves but no one has made a move to help just yet. Then the man in the rear seat unrolls his window. "Are you alright?"

Bernard steps forward in his uniform to get noticed. He brings the ladies forward.
"Hello! My name is Bernard Cromwell, US Army, Retired. I have with me two women from the hospital in need of aid. I have Melissa, a pregnatnt, deaf Frenchwoman and a young lady who seems to be in shock."

Those in the car talk amongst themselves for a moment. Then the man in the back seat turns to look at the hapless trio, and points at the hospital. "The hospital is over there. They can help you."

Bernard almost jumps out of his skin. "We just came from there. There's nobody left alive. We were lucky to get out. We scavenged what we could, but we got out as soon as possible. We could really use a ride."

"They must have come from the other reality. It can't be that everyone's dead in the hospital here ... but maybe we should skip the hospital and go find this book of Louie's." The woman hops out of the car and gestures the people over. "Here, you sit up here," she says to the pregnant woman, indicating the passenger's seat. "The rest of us will have to squish."

As the trio enter the car, they see light break through the ash that seems to disintegrate and fall away, revealing a world of traffic, light, life and cars slowly moving through the intersection.

As if nothing had happened.

OOC: Please enter Chapter Two, Jill & Charlie's thread.