Reality

Took a look back at comments from a previous post. Morningstar and Fracture had an odd conversation in the comments section. Fracture was under the assumption that Morningstar was deceased. I have been following Morning Hunter for sometime. Nothing indicated that he had died in any way. In fact, he has barely been inactive since the beginning of it. Perhaps there was something behind the scenes going on with the proxies?

Yet Morningstar seemed as confused as I am. Then they started linking posts. Fracture linked a post Morningstar could not read, and Morningstar linked a post Fracture could not read. I could read Morningstar's fine. There seemed to be a few close calls though. Namely against a woman named Michelle. Unfortunately the insane bastard tossed her off a building. Aside from that... Nothing to indicate Morningstar had ever really been in any life threatening peril.

While I have no theories as to why this may be... I did discover a theory that may explain it. Dimensional Bleeding they called it. It seemed idiotic when I first read it. Essentially it is a theory to explain the inconsistencies surrounding It and fellow abominations. It theorizes that the sheer power of the beings creates holes in reality itself. Causing other realities to leak in, with their own forms of these beings. Which would explain why It acts so different, and why other large events clearly did not take place.

It would also explain why Morningstar is alive here and not wherever Fracture is. However Morningstar mentioned knowing a Fracture. Presumably this universe's Fracture. Who has perhaps not found this blog yet. So how did AU Fracture find it? My blog must have bled into this AU and attracted the attention of the inhabitants. So maybe, this would explain the strangeness.

Or maybe this is the single most idiotic theory I have ever heard, and Morningstar and Fracture are just playing games....

Maybe I just wanted something to write about before we go off to meet Dr. Thomas Mercer and see if he can actually help us. Of course it is probably a trap. Really though, we don't have another choice.

This may be our last post... Though I suppose all of our posts could have been the last. But those other times, we were not willingly walking into a probable trap... So. To all readers who are not scumbag proxies... Good Luck. Kill that thing. There is a way. One of us is bound to find it. Kill it. Don't let there be any more deaths.

Creeping

With all the excitement and loud death recently, you forget just how terrifying something so utterly quiet and still is. Just... Standing there... It is... Fascinating as it is terrifying to behold. Something just so calming about It. It looks so ethereal... Angelic even. Just that still, quiet... Nothing but the sound of my pounding heart filling my ears. There is... Beauty there, I think. Yes...

A loud crack and the flash of a shard of metal flying past me into the wall was what it took to shake me from that... Trance. I look and see the smiling face of my dead uncle standing in a long heavy black coat, brandishing a sniper rifle. Dream to Nightmare, as the still figure of a man became more like a spider. Many writhing oily arms coming out of it, reaching for me even as I fled out the door. Even as the people on the street watch and do nothing, as they are want to do. Someone else's problem isn't it. 

I remember how it felt to be touched by those tendrils. I remember how sick I felt. But then, I felt sick just looking at It back then. I wonder how it would feel now... No doubt my curiosity will be sated before this is all over with.

Nothing more to say. We are close to our destination now, and I hope... Our salvation. We will spend tomorrow planning in case my hopes prove false. 

My dreams may... For once be free from the blood and screams that have Plagued me. 

Strain

You know, Imma big guy. I know I'm strong. But that don't mean I have to do all the legwork and heavy lifting. Echo's got two legs too, so why do I gotta be the one to keep hoofing it to the store to pick up groceries. That damned car can't even hold a lot. So we gotta keep on sending me out to be a damn pack mule. And I expect to be sent out again soon enough to get a few more groceries, while Echo sits on his ass.

Oh. He says he is doing important stuff. Research into old legends and stuff, trying to discover something that none of the other dozens of people stalked by this thing found. Sounds pretty pointless to me. He needs to be looking at where were going, I think. He ain't found nothing about no Dr. Thomas Mercer in the town he mentioned. Certainly not one who ran an Asylum. Did he mention that? This Doc Mercer ain't a medical doctor. He's a psychologist or... Psychiatrist or whatever. Don't really the difference myself.

Echo even told me he thinks that Doc Mercer might be a servant of that Archangel thing what saved us from the Pale freaks. Think I remember reading a comment from Incognito that mentioned the Archangel, after those thugs stole our computers. Don't know what it is yet, but it can't be that bad if it saved us. Or maybe it just didn't want us to die there. Who's ta say.

Think I might be catching a cold too. Been coughing and sneezing a lot. Throat's getting raw from it all. Course Dr. Echo's more concerned with his stupid research. He ain't gonna find the miracle weapon against The Tall Fella. He just ain't. I don't think it exists...

I know this was short, but I need to get some rest. Might help me lose this bug faster.

Listlessness

Figured it was bout time I posted on here again. Lot to talk about... But maybe I shouldn't. That family's dead. That little girl's dead... An if she ain't, she'll wanna be. No use n giving it any more thought than necessary.

Getting kind of fed up with Echo recently... Really more his attitude towards me. I mean can you believe that last post?  "I need to decide our course of action" or however he said it. Not "We need to decide" er "I will ask Roland for his opinion" am I just along for the ride? I think I should getta say in where we go to next. To be honest, I don't think that going ta that Doc Mercer's place is a good idea. Even know-it-all Echo thinks itsa trap. So ain't it purty dumb to go walking into a trap?

What I think we should do, is go find some other group a runners. Safety in numbers. Even if the Tall Fella can't be killed, it at least means he has a lot of options to choose from to kill, instead a just me and Echo. Cause we ain't getting out of this alive. Yeah. I said it. We ain't getting out of this alive. It's just the truth. Plain and simple.

Not really all that much else to say. No sign of the Pale freaks or the Tall Fella. Least none for me. Hope it stays that way.

Worries

Supplies, mental health, Roland, the safety of our destination, Dr. Mercer's true affiliation, It, Pale Men, and possible Archangel stalking. Things have become complicated all of a sudden.

Issue #1: Our Van was packed full of useful supplies... Morningstar seems to have made off with most of it, leaving us with a bare minimum. A weeks supply of MREs, our wallets and a laptop. Money, while not yet an issue, will not last forever. May have to resort to thievery to get basic needs. Dad taught me how best to steal from civilians, yet it is still a highly risky endeavor. 

Issue #2: My mind feels so constantly numb. Listen to the radio. Have a guilty pleasure in the form of the John Boy & Billy show. Can't even smile from it anymore. It is still funny but... I don't find it amusing? Music is no longer drawing emotions either. Just... Noise now. Also find it... Unpleasant to sleep. Unpleasant to be awake and not keeping my brain occupied. Fear I may be suffering from PTSD. Need an actual psychologist to be sure. Still.

Issue #3: Roland has barely said a word since we escaped. Hasn't even been able to answer my question about what happened in the forest when we were... Separated. Would be useful to know. Given his irritating silence, I am unable to accurately guess whether he has PTSD or not. I find it likely though, even if I do not have it. He never struck me as one mentally able to withstand something so...

Issues #4, #5 & #8: Dr. Mercer has been sending E-Mail throughout the duration of our capture. Several things worry me here. We were saved by something wearing Silas' face. This fits the modus operandi of The Archangel entity. Furthermore, we had a "coincidental" robbery a few weeks ago by Timberwolves, the cultists that worship The Archangel. Dr. Mercer claiming to possibly be able to help us if we go to him... The Archangel clearly trying to ensure we get to him. I am now nearly positive this is a trap...

That said. If it is a trap, the Archangel revealing Itself like that would be an extremely sloppy move. If It wanted us dead it could have killed us. So It wants us to go to Mercer. But if we suspect It is involved with Mercer, we will be less likely to go to him. Mercer himself continues to promise me he does not serve Dumah or The Archangel. But he can give no evidence without us being there to see it. I am thus debating whether to continue on. 

Issue #6 & 7: It's actions with Morningstar prove something. It wants us, or at least Roland, dead by the knives of those Pale Monsters. Why? I have no concrete theory. It is highly illogical in any case. My... Brief visit to that Hell of black leaves, may imply that I have another use for It. Or perhaps my visit was simply one of It's sadistic whims. Either way, It seems to have become less aggressive lately, while It's servants serve, appropriately enough, as Proxies for It's aggression towards us. This is both a blessing and a curse. We can fight off, or more easily escape from servants. However they are incredibly unpredictable. We may run into an entirely different Proxy soon enough, with an entirely different operating method from Morningstar. 

... This of course means I need to decide our course of action quickly. 

God only knows what It will throw at us next. 

Torture

Uneventful day. Wish something would happen. Distract from thoughts... Distract from body count.

Believe I was describing the next atrocity Morningstar inflicted on that family. The Mother was next on the chopping block. On the table, she was staring at her daughter and trying to speak through her gag. Morningstar leaned down and put his head beside hers, staring at the daughter as well. His smile was smaller than usual. Can't help but wonder why.

"Yes. Take a good long look Mrs. Revis. Soak it all in. Burn that image into your mind. It will be the last time you ever see your daughter."

He looked at me and smiled wider once again.

"Dr. Marsh, let me show you a surgery I learned from one of my best teachers."

He... Held her eyes open and inserted a small, dull piece of metal between the eye and the socket.

"Look at your daughter. Look at her. Look hard. Look her straight in the eyes. It will be the last time... Heheh."

He slowly... Pulled the eyeball out, still attached... He cut the retna. Then did the same to the other eye.... He moved her head to face her daughter. I couldn't look at her.

"Cruel world we live in, eh kiddo? Look. Look what they did to Mommy. Look Look Look. Why... She almost looks like..."

He took out a sewing needle and some sort of thread. When it was over he had sewn the woman's lips shut. Don't ask me for more details. Ungagged her screaming was.... How many time she told her daughter she loves her. I suppose at least... At least she got to before the end. The father didn't even get a chance. I am sick and tired of writing this... I don't want to remember this... Recount this. That sick son of a bitch.

"Hey kiddo. Take a nice long look at this face. This is what killed your big brother. I wonder, did you hear the screams when he was taken?"

At this point I noticed Morningstar's face gradually losing it's manic expression. He looked... Bored would be one way to describe it. He kept that expression for a time before seeming to get dizzy. He was holding his head with one hand while he pulled out a knife and began stabbing the woman around a dozen times in various places. He barely seemed to notice what he was doing.

When he... Finished... He slowly walked away and waved over a proxy. By the look of him, an Elvis Impersonator or something equally ridiculous like that. He had a syringe with him filled with a clear fluid, which he injected into Morningstar's arm.

He proceeded to sit down for a few minutes, looking increasingly glum. Once he finally got up and walked back to the table, he looked at the corpse of the woman.

"Oh Goddammit. Must have got carried away."

He pushed the body into the floor and walked over to the little girl, grabbing her chair and pulling her away out of sight. When he came back, he had an empty chair with him. He sat down in the chair backwards, arms draped over the back. Staring at me.

"So."

I simply stared at him. He stared back before making an expression that I read to mean "Go ahead." I said nothing.

"You asleep or something? Helloooooo."

He began knocking on my head. I replied with an impotent snarl. I would have liked to reply by tearing his arms off.

"YOU ARE AWAKE! Good, good. We have things to talk about Doctor Marsh. Post-Surgery... Thing... Debriefing? What is it they call it.... I do not know. ANYWAY, so what did you think of my surgery skills? Do not be nice, just give me the truth. I can take any criticisms."

I told him what I thought of him. He kicked my chair over and began ranting incoherently at me about... God knows. I was sick of his voice and not paying much attention. When he stopped, he set my chair upright again.

"So. Next topic. I had mine, you can have yours. Shoot. I am an open book. Gotta be a good host to my esteemed guests."

I asked him why he does not just kill us and get it over with. I figured he was going to torture us to death too... So his response was surprising.

"Believe me I would LOVE to... But you see... I cannot. OK, my turn. A related topic... Why? Why am I not allowed to kill you? Can you tell me? I would really appreciate knowing. It has just been BOGGLING MY MIND all day. I think about disemboweling you, I get this really SICK feeling in my stomach. I think about sawing off your useless limbs, I go numb in my own. I think about just SHOOTING you in your empty fucking head, and I get a MIGRAINE. So tell me. And be honest. What makes you two so goddamn SPECIAL that I cannot END YOUR MISERABLE GODDAMN LIVES LIKE YOU DESERVE?!?"

I did not have an answer. It was a shock to me as well. It does not want to kill me? Or maybe It does not want a proxy to kill me. But why? Am I part of some bigger plot? Do I have some use for that abomination? Suicide has never looked more tempting, just to spite that wretched thing... But back to the day's events... I could not answer Morningstar. He noticed.

"Great. Even you do not know. Peachy. Means I have to babysit you for a while longer."

With that, he walked off...

He didn't speak to me again for two days. We were untied occasionally to eat and drink... Under constant watch and with a gun trained on us by multiple proxies. But for the most part we were simply left alone for the next two days. Roland did not say a word, except crying from time to time. I think I did too. I still am. Maybe not for me, but for that little girl...

I still don't know what happened to her. I never saw her again after Morningstar took her away... It is... Remarkable in many ways. You hear on the news about acts of unspeakable violence against people, you find yourself thinking "That's really bad." But your mind just... Does not comprehend exactly what unspeakable violence is. You imagine the scenes in your head, but your wildest imagination does not do the reality justice. The horror of it is... Beyond words. That people like Morningstar can exist in this world, that they can perform these atrocities without a shred of remorse... Without even remembering the faces of all the victims. The people. The living breathing human beings he killed... I always thought that humans, while flawed, and selfish and prone to extreme error were fundamentally good. But Morningstar... This... What he did... I don't know if I can still believe that.

We were knocked unconscious two days later. Then we woke up in that shack.

Now I just want to forget this. I want to sleep it off, I want to... Maybe see if drinking it off helps... But I doubt it. My dreams will be filled with that family's screams. The look the little girl was wearing on her face as Morningstar dragged her away... It's shadow engulfing us all... That's all Morningstar is. A shadow of It. A puppet of It. A tool. Whatever It has in store for us... I will do everything in my power to ensure it fails. But I need to find out what it is first. I cannot die before that happens. I cannot.

Pawns

The one thing I need to salvage from those memories are Silas' face. Roland got a better look. He... It was wearing a long black rain coat. According to Roland, It was wearing a gas mask when it first showed up. It was carrying a rifle of some kind. Sniper Rifle maybe. Looking through an assortment of accounts, I can only assume that this is some entity in the same vein as Dumah. They call it The Archangel. Beyond that, accounts are very inconsistent and strange. Common points include it taking a vaguely humanoid form in a gasmask and coat with a rifle. Sometimes wearing the face of a deceased loved one. Silas in this case...

I asked myself "Why has it come for us?" and I can only assume we attracted It's attention when those Timberwolves were killed. Those thugs who stole our laptops. They are evidently worshipers of The Archangel. This begs the question though. Why did it stop the Pale Men from killing us. Once again they had us. Why interfere?

This combined with... Things Dumah did to me while we were in Morningstar's custody, makes me believe that there is a larger game being played here with us. To elaborate on those memories...

As that psychopath said, we were driving along the highway at a reasonable speed. I noticed a young man standing on the side of the road. He tipped his hat at us as we went by. That brief moment spent looking at him was enough for It to manifest in the middle of the road. When I saw it, I swerved and... I don't remember much else. When I awoke, I was tied up in a chair. Rudimentary first aid done to my injuries. I vaguely recall calling Roland's name and heard a grunt behind me. That is when I noticed a... Clown standing in the room watching us. When he noticed me stirring, he yelled

"Star, our guests are waking up."

He was answered by a... Sound. A squee of sorts. It sounded very happy. That is when we saw Morningstar. To describe his appearance... all washed out colors. Very pale skin, light blue eyes, long wispy blonde hair. Dresses remarkably unlike a maniac. Black fedora, long suit coat over a dress shirt. Black tie. Black dress pants. Maybe trying to emulate his "Father" in some regard. He wears his clothes far more casually than It appears to. A contrast.

His effeminate features combined with his constant smiling render almost pleasant to look at. Until the smirk becomes a manic grin and he begins waving around a knife indiscriminately. Our first conversation was unpleasant. I asked him who he was and where we were. Dazed and confused as I was, it was obvious WHAT he was. A Proxy. At long, long last I came face to face with a proxy. An eccentric type. Flashy theatrical serial murderers. The most visible faces among It's slaves.

He faked sympathy for us. "Oh You POOR little dears. You must be so confused right now." He looked and spoke to his Clown comrade.

"The poor things have been in an awful accident you know. It it our job to nurse them back to health."

I asked him again who he was and where we are.

"Echo, right? Sorry I have not really had the pleasure of speaking to you on that little blog of yours. I am Morningstar. Doctor Morningstar."

He looked to be about 20, thus I was skeptical of his claim at being a Doctor. That seemed to annoy him.

"I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW that I stole my degree fair and square. Same as anyone else."

He started pacing around us. "My, my, my this is NOT the best start to our friendship gentlemen. TUBBY, you awake?"

Roland kept silent. Probably the smartest move in this situation. I think Morningstar was looking for something to latch on to and pick at.

"Awww. Is that not simply adorable? Roland, right? Hey Tubby? Right? Come on. Look at me." I heard him gently slapping Roland's cheek.

"Atta boy Rolly. Can I call you Rolly? Much more fitting for a man of your... Hmmm... Stature. Heh. Better keep you away from any steep slopes."

 Already he was getting on my nerves.  I loudly asked where we were. In response, he jerked around and stuck his face right in mine, looking me in the eyes.

"Home. Buuuuddy. Doctor Morningstar's Clinic as it were. Today we have some rather... Difficult surgery scheduled. I was hoping that a fellow man of Science could assist me in my delicate operation. Could you do that Dr. Marsh?"

I didn't like where this was going.

He walked over to a large table and began placing all kinds of... Blades, hammers, chisels and strange implements across it.

"BRING OUT ZE PATIENTS!" he said.

I think he believed a faux-german accent made the statement comical. It did not. A large scarecrow themed man, followed my a large Asian man and a large masked woman came out, dragging several chairs with them. A man, a woman and two children were in the chairs.

...

Then he... He asked me which one looks more in need of surgery. I didn't answer. And he told me that if I didn't pick... He would. He gestured towards the young girl. The entire family was crying. Muffled moans behind gagged mouths. The little girl was probably... Eight? The boy was probably a bit older. The parents looked to be about my age.

I picked the father. Who wouldn't? In hindsight maybe I should have just picked the girl. They untied the man and put him on the table. His struggling was... Pointless. Morningstar looked him over.

"Tsk Tsk... Not been taking good care of yourself eh Mr. Revis? Dr. Marsh... What do you think seems to be the problem with dear Mr. Revis?"

I was stunned. I had just chosen a man for death. I wasn't able to answer Morningstar in time.

"What is that Dr. Marsh? Skin Cancer you say? Well we cannot have that. We need cut out the cancer. We have to be thorough.... Take note kids."

I noticed that the remaining members of the family were sat facing the operating table. Even the children. I begged Morningstar not to let them see this.

"For shame Dr. Marsh! For shame. This is an excellent learning experience for the impressionable youth. We have to instill a love of learning in an early age. I promise you... This will be an experience they will never forget. Hehehehe"

He broke out into a small fit of laughter. It couldn't have been more than ten seconds, but it felt like an eternity. The anticipation the... Shock at what I was about to witness. And the family... God what could it have been like for them?

...

I won't go into the details of what I saw. I am a doctor. I am a man of medicine and healing. I ease pain. That is what I do. Yet I subjected this man to death. While his family watched... Closing my eyes didn't help. I could hear the sounds... Flesh being separated from muscle. The splatter of blood... So much blood... Living blood. The look on his face... That joy. That utter joy in his face. He knew what he was doing. He know what it would cause. The pain. He loved it. And he kept talking through the entire thing. Making up lies about past surgeries... I hope they were lies. Commenting on what he saw beneath the skin. Mentioning how he wishes I could have picked the woman so he could make... Fucking puns about beauty being skin deep. Told me it would give me a better appreciation of the female form. 

It took an hour for him to die, I think.

"Ah... You are looking MUCH better Mr. Revis. No more excess body fat and no more cancer. I for one, call this a successful operation."

He stuck a lollipop in the dead man's mouth. But it would get worse. God it would get worse. He had the body dragged off out of sight, and us with it.

"Now boys, I am going to share with you a little secret of mine. I am very environmentally aware. Beautiful mother nature doesn't need more... Hehehe... Trash, making things all yucky."

He patted the corpse when he said trash. I noticed some of the other proxies were leaving the room.

"Jack old buddy. Help me out here will you?"

A shorter, thin man dressed in strange and colorful clothing came forward. He removed his top hat and monocle. He picked up a cleaver.

"Now, not many are aware of this Dr. Marsh, but I am in fact a world class chef in addition to being a surgeon. Not to come across as arrogant or anything, but I am a man of many talents and... Refined tastes."

After an eternity of watching them remove bones and organs, they began chopping the body into pieces.

"You have to boil the meat. Makes it safer to eat, if a bit tasteless... But hey, that is what spices and seasonings are for."

It took everything I had to keep from vomiting... I couldn't even keep track of what he was saying anymore. He just kept talking and talking and talking and talking... He never EVER shut up. It was just one atrocity after another. One irredeemable act followed by another. And once he was done cooking...

The other proxies moved the family back in. Morningstar told them they had a big day tomorrow. This could be their last meal, so he personally prepared it for them with... "Love and Care." The family's eyes were... broken and dead. They didn't give it any thought. What he might be feeding them. Maybe they hoped it was poison.... But they ate it. They were scared and exhausted and hungry. As Morningstar's assistant held up the meat to their lips, I saw it tear. I saw the saliva dripping out of their maws, mixing with tears still flowing like rivers... And I saw Morningstar's face. He was smiling and almost shaking with restrained laughter.

I finally regained my nerve and told them to stop eating that. Morningstar broke down in laughter, all but rolling on the goddamn floor. He showed them the bones, picked clean of meat. He licked the skull before asking ME if I wanted to join in on the feast. I don't remember what I said... I was angry. I hated him more than I have ever hated anyone.

"Suit yourself" he said. Cheerily. And he started eating the meat himself. He talked about some cultures that believed that by committing cannibalism, one could absorb the attributes and soul of the deceased. He told the children that their Daddy lived on inside his stomach. I couldn't look at them. I know the mother vomited. I know she was crying. They took the family away to another part of the building. Morningstar yawned and said "Well guys, I am pooped. Been a long day for everyone, and I know we have got LOTS of fun stuff planned in the future. So get some sleep and we'll continue in the morning." He skipped off almost singing.

We were left alone... Wherever we were. Hours passed like minutes. Except when I closed my eyes. Even blinking... The darkness made me replay those images in my head. Again and again. I was only vaguely aware of the third presence in the room... Standing there in the center. Just watching us. When I noticed It, I just stared. It stared back. For hours I watched It. For hours It watched me. Over me. In me. I noticed it had come closer, seemingly without moving as the hours passed. I blink and see the images. My eyes open and I see It. At dawn my eyes opened and I saw we were alone.

Morningstar and the other proxies returned.

"GOOD MORNING my sleeping beauties. I hope you had a restful night's sleep. I know you have had a trying day yesterday. Well no more. Dr. Morningstar wants ensure today is a nice, day filled with relaxation. And entertainment. I expect we will have company soon enough, so we need to prepare a welcoming service."

I looked at him for a long time... I simply asked him. Why?

He looked at me and frowned for the first time I had seen.

"Because none of you deserve to live."

His expression went back to that jovial smile. That vicious smirk.

Our hands were tied and we were hung from the rafters from our hands. Morningstar and the proxies were doing something below. Rigging wiretraps to loaded shotguns. Positioning each proxy in a specific location guarding the door. And they waited. They waited for a long time. I couldn't feel my arms by the time I saw a cautious opening of the door. The barrel of a gun entered, followed by a tall, strong looking man armed to the teeth. Morningstar's assistant pulled the chain that bound us, causing a rattling sound. The gunman looked towards the sound and stared at us.... His surprise at seeing us was his undoing. The large female proxy jumped from her hiding place and tackled the gunman to the ground. The other Proxies emerged brandishing weapons and either laughing or taunting the man. Morningstar got close to the gunman and started talking. Softly. I couldn't hear the conversation. It ended with the scarecrow themed proxy lopping the man's head off with a hand scythe.

Morningstar kicked it and started up an impromptu soccer game. When they finished, we were let back down and tied up again.

"Sorry about that. You must be confused. Suffice it to say, I got rid of a MASSIVE pain in my ass there. Thanks for being a distraction. Now... Where were we? Ah yes. Surgery. Let us bring out the lucky contestants."

The Family was brought back out. But the Boy was missing. I felt my heart jump for a second. Maybe he escaped? Maybe he is safe?

"Oh... So it was the boy brat that Father was after. Lucky kid. Oh well... One less patient. Ding ding. Next. The Doctor will see you now... Dr. Marsh, who's it gonna be?"

I picked the little girl. Morningstar grinned. The proxies tied her to the table, still covered in dried blood from the previous day's surgery. He looked her over briefly, knife in hand. He spotted a small cut, probably caused by a failed escape attempt during the night.

"Oh No." He gave her a sad and worried look. "Your poor thing. You got a boo-boo. Here, let me help..."

He applied a band aid and sent her back to her chair.

"Which leaves us with ONE patient. The lovely Mrs. Revis."

...

I'll finish this tomorrow. Current objective. Find Dr. Mercer.