With the dinner party in complete shambles, you feared the door may never open for you. But once you’d survived whatever length of time this was meant to last, you found the handle giving way.
And none too soon. Several Denizens’ bodies littered the floor, but the rest weren’t exactly happy with you. If anyone was going to tend to Abel, it wouldn’t be here. It likely wouldn’t be on the platform over the wasteland rushing below, either. Nor the bridge—
Which was rescinding, anyway. The handrails folded over, and the bridge tucked away into the next car, leaving no way to cross. What were you to do? Jump? Impossible. But Neko-Neko seemed more curious than perturbed, so presumably this didn’t wreck their killing game plans.
In a flash, another car, rolling atop the ones ahead, lowered into the gap. Another bridge extended, the handrails snapping back into place as if nothing had happened. If you hadn’t been watching, you wouldn’t know there was any difference.
“Well, that doesn’t happen every day! How exciting!”
“Yeah, it’s not that special. Get going.”
You had little choice but to obey.
Though one look inside the next set of doors was enough to make several of you have second thoughts, there was no turning back. And if you made some attempt to go over or around the whole car, you were sure to fail, before or after suffering horrible injury—which would only make going inside all the more necessary.
So you stepped in, begrudgingly or otherwise. You only had a moment to observe the half-curtained-off hospital beds, the IV stands, the bustling sets of scrubs, before something felt… wrong. With you. Was the sheer atmosphere just making you feel unwell? Or…
A pair of spectacles with cartoonish eyes behind them swooped over, ducking and bobbing to scrutinize all of you. “Oh dear, oh dear,” came a mutter, though no mouth appeared to give it. “All right, if you could all wait here for just a moment, we’ll have your rooms ready momentarily.”
It was a nice idea, to actually get a room to yourself for once… but given the place (and the thrumming in your head), it was hard to be excited. At least the injured could be seen to?
Whether you followed instructions exactly or not, you eventually found yourself guided to a hospital bed (they called this a room?). With a promise that a nurse would be in to see you soon, the pair of glasses somehow pulled the separating curtains shut to leave you there alone. A draft stirred, but despite the apparent window, you couldn’t see anything outside but light. Presumably it was enough for the little plastic-potted ivy in the sill, but it did nothing to detract from the stuffy, sterile air of the place. Did you really need to sit here and wait? Surely it was wiser to at least figure out where the exit door was.
But you were so tired…
—
[Car Reference Post]
