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File: 1428000522978.jpg (166.71 KB, 640x415, 128:83, ward beds.jpg)

54cb76 No.5472

(In a collaboration with One-Eyed)

Gravity's Twitter: https://twitter.com/Calderweiss
One-Eyed's Twitter: https://twitter.com/OneEyedQM


You slowly come back to your conciousness.
What uncovers before your eyes is a blurry sight of a dark grey celling. As your vision finally clarifies, you can make out some of your surroundings.
It appears you are in a medical insitution of some sort. The lights seem to be off, and the only source of illumination come from windows, almost entirely covered by curtains.
You find yourself lying at one of hospital beds. There are numerous more, but it appears none of them are occupied. Some of them seem to have been knocked over, several bed sheets are lying carelessly on the floor. The ones remaining standing have tangled sheets, like all of the occupants had scrambled to get out. Almost as if some sort of a hurricane came through the place.

The room is dark and pretty nondescript. Apart from the beds, some still lined-up in order, and some chaotically scattered, there are several desks, with what appears to be some sort of basic medical equipment - syringes, scalpels, et cetera.
Above one of the desks you notice a small mirror, sight of which leads you to a very disturbing finding.

You cannot recall anything about yourself, not even your own appearance.

You stare at the celling, dumbfounded, for several minutes. Amnesia? Was it either because of an accident or did you have some kind of mental disorder? How long have you been here? And what's more important, where are the ones that brought you here? This place looks the least of which you could expect to be a well-managed hospital. It's much reminescent of the set of a horror movie; that is, if you could remember any. A tingling feeling starts in your toes, gradually moving up your body until you're able to twitch your extremities, then slowly lift them.

The material under you is soft, as is the blanket on top. You're hooked to a machine through some needle in the hand, but it seems to be turned off along with the lighting. Fighting to sit up, you strain the muscles in your back just to do so. Breath hitches in your chest, and it's only after more heavy panting that you decide to pull the tube out of the back of your hand.

After more effort, straining, and sweat, you manage to swing your legs off the bed onto the floor. Wobbling dangerously, the legs under you threaten to give way. Shit! You grasp the edge of the bed for steadiness. After regaining stability, you step out carefully into the room, making sure to avoid anything sharp that might have fallen to the tile. Your back hurts like hell.

There! Sleepy eyes catch a prescription bottle by the end of one of the beds. Slowly making a way over, you pick up the item to read: "Administer 500 mg of Threucosamine 3 times a day. Do not adminster until at least 30 minutes after meals." Checking the label further, you look to find that this is not medicine for a physical ailment, but rather, a psychiatric drug. Your fears are confirmed as you pick up more and more of the bottles around the room. You're not staying in any hospital, but rather, a mental ward.

Through the duskiness, you see a mirror over a sink by the left wall. Slowly shambling over to take a look at yourself, the world blurs all around, and you move more or less like a drunkyard. You trip on the floor halfway to the mirror, but manage not to hurt yourself too much. Finally, your eyes meet the glass's reflection.

What did the mirror uncover before you was a face which you'd consider to look good even for a hospitalised person's standards, except for two things: an empty, almost drugged stare in your hazel eyes, and a rather fresh scar running across your right cheek.

You appear to be a handsome, and perhaps at less unfortunate occasions, vigorous man, aged somewhere in his late twenties. You have a pale face, and a slender figure. You seem to be doing pretty well for abandoned mental asylum standards. Heck, you're even pretty handsome, although a little on the pale side. Your black hair’s a bit of a mess, but that's the least of your concerns now.

What was your old personality like? Did you have one? Ice blue eyes stare out with a coldness to them, almost like someone else is looking back. The notion of guessing your own personality from your facial expressions rather than memories seems odd, but it's apparent you possess some cold blood. You feel great confusion, and deep inside some fear as well, but not panic
Post last edited at

54cb76 No.5473


As much as you try to focus your mind to reach for any memories you can, it just doesn't work out. The only things you can make out are flashes, which end as soon as they begin, nature and context of which you cannot really tell.

Huge, dark forest of some sort. You walk on slowly and stealthily, seeming to perfectly know where you're going.

You scream something at some other person, apparently arguing with them. You cannot even tell any words. A while after you stop, you hear a female voice beginning to anwser you, and the recollection cuts off shortly after that.

You're driving a vehicle through a dark foggy night. Suddenly, a light emerges from the fog, going towards your direction.

A flash of white light, followed by a loud static noise.

More shouting of yours.

You grip some kind of object, you can't tell what it is, but you have a feeling you've held it many times before.

"Catherine"

You stumble against one of the beds as a deep ache pounds through your head. It's going to be a pain in the ass if old you suffered from migraines. You look down at a dingy hospital gown as you rest, and strangely enough, reminiscent feelings arise. You haven’t been committed before, have you? You feel something on your right wrist. As you take a closer look, you notice you're wearing a light-green wristband. "#47-D" is inscribed on it. Perhaps it can help you identify yourself, but until then, you have no name, left with an alpha-numeric sequence only.

Perhaps it's time to venture past those doors, and see what awaits you further along.

7e4990 No.5489

>Sure, I'll look around for the door.

65ed12 No.5491

>>5473
You may want to give prompts when you're finished?

7be526 No.5492

File: 1428144524954.jpg (64.42 KB, 637x850, 637:850, Midnight_Mist.jpg)

>>5491
No initial prompts due to our editorial ambiguity. They'll be there in the future, but the Quest will be heavily based on write-ins and player initiatives.

>>5489

You step lightly, deeper into the blackness that awaits you at the end of the hall. Oddly enough, you still haven't managed to find anyone else up here, alive or, you know…
Your big toe bangs into something metal, and after a quiet but intense cursing session, you look down to see a discarded bedpan laying on the tile. The further you go, the more objects you find in disarray. Now among the debris, you see hospital gowns recklessly abandoned. Scuff marks are all over the tile, and as you continue to walk, holes in the walls start to appear. Seeing how you woke up when the IV in you ran out, it seems that whatever happened here happened quite recently.

What the hell even happened here? You come across a lone broken window, and by its light you can see deep scratches in the tile, and on the walls. What kind of tool would do that, and why would it be in a hospital? They don't seem to be claw marks, as the scratches are singular in nature.


You find a broken chair leg as you wander. Holding it in your hand is reassuring, even though it's probably not enough for whatever caused all of this mess.
Frankly, you wonder if you even have enough strength left in your arms to even swing it straight.

You hear something shift in the rubble ahead. Your hands start to shake, as your heart speeds up. After a second, you hear a loud clunk, and the sound of several smaller things dropping to the floor. Tense in a dark, destroyed hallway, you wait, and wait, and wait. Whatever it was, it must have just been more rubble. You proceed onward, and freeze when you hear another sound.

Is that… crying? You creep along, chair leg in hand, until you come to a doorway on the right. Maybe it's not safe, even if they are crying, if they're in a mental facility, they're probably mental. Well, you already lost your memory, so it's not like there is much else to lose now besides a hospital gown and chair leg. Turning right, you find yourself in an office room. As you enter it, you are greeted by complete darkness, almost. Papers scatter the floor, filing cabinets are turned over, and desks are cracked into pieces.


What's odd is that the noise has stopped now that you've entered the room. You can't determine which part of the office it came from. Your footsteps fall softly on the carpet inside, not wanting to startle who or whatever is now hiding.

"You can come out now, I'm not going to hurt you…" Despite the kind words, your voice comes out as a raspy mess due to inactivity.

You start to look under and behind desks, listening for the sound of breathing. This isn't gonna work. It's time to let in some light. Through the grayness of the room, you stumble over to a wall for a window. Opening the blinds, you manage to let dim evening light into the room. Outside, you see a landscape that looks just about as inviting as the place you're in now. Tree branches stretch out and sway in the darkness like limbs, as if waiting to snatch a careless passerby, and off in the distance you can hear the awful noises a coyote pack makes. Right now, you're not sure which of the two environments are less friendly.

Is that blood? Seeing this side room illuminated, if only scarcely, shows off a series of stains on the floor. Something reminds you that it is much easier to clean blood off of tile then it is carpet, something familiar.

A similar color strikes your eyes, snapping your attention to the end of the room. What you've stumbled upon appears to be a young… girl?

[1/2]

7be526 No.5493

>>5492
She huddles under a table, rocking back and forth. What place does a child have in a place like this? The hair on the back of your neck rises as you approach, as if stepping close to a cornered animal. Her hands cover her face, which are in turn masked by curly red locks.

Lifting her head slowly, she reveals bloodshot eyes with bags underneath them, indicating a lack of sleep. Dilated pupils stare out, not focusing on anything in particular. A bruise darkens her right cheek, leaving you to wonder what this girl went through before she found the office.

The girl's hopeless gaze snaps back into focus, transfixed by your appearance. Scrunching her eyes tightly shut, she retreats further under the desk, as if hoping you're just a part of her imagination. The eyes flutter open again, blinking rapidly, registering your presence. She's noticed you all right, evident by an eardrum piercing screech that forces you to clamp your hands over the sides of your head. You stumble backward, banging the back of your head against a nearby desk, cutting off her only alley of escape. When you look up again, she's out from under the desk, shrunk back against the wall.

The girl's legs and arms stutter violently as you stare dumbfounded. Before you can say anything, she begins to stammer out words.

"Nn-n-nooo.."

"Nnn..nnn.. NO MORE."

A pitiful wail escapes her throat as a heavy sob wracks her body.

"I'M NOT TAKING ANY MORE. NO! I'M NOT! *sob* YOU CAN'T MAKE ME! MONSTER! MONSTEEEERR!!"

You start to raise your hands over your head, but instead of taking it as a gesture of surrender, she cries out again, fresh tears down her face. It's a desperate, saddening sort of crying, as the voice catches in her throat between sobs.

"DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! DON'T TOUCH ME! NOT ANY MORE!!"

In a burst of adrenaline, she barrels down the alley, shoving you into the furniture. Making it to the doorway, she rounds the corner, leaving you with the sound of bare feet on tile. If you act now, you might just be able to catch her. That is, if you want to catch a wild animal. In this state she probably can't tell you what's been going on, and one of you might get injured. On the other hand, finding her again might not be an easy feat in this dark facility if you let her run any farther. If you're going to act, you have to decide now.

[2/2]

7be526 No.5494

>>5493
[]Let her go
[]Write-in: Try to stop her (Describe what are you going to do. If you're trying to talk to her, write down what are you going to say.)

3022e2 No.5504

>>5492
>full moon
Is this is a werewolf quest?
>>5494
"Wait! I'm not going to hurt you!"

54cb76 No.5515

>>5504
Red locks of hair blur as the girl whips around at the doorframe. Panting like she's just run a marathon, she forces words out between heavy breaths.

"That's NOT the first time I've heard that! I'M TIRED OF YOUR LIES, YOUR MEDICINE, AND THIS STUPID PLACE!! I'm not letting you stick any more needles in me, DO YOU HEAR ME?" She shrieks again, her body almost going into spasms "YOU ALWAYS SAY IT WILL HELP ME, YOU ALWAYS SAY I HAVE TO DO THIS AND THAT, YOU ALWwaays… *gasp*"

She starts breathing heavily, and suddenly you hear her wailing again.

"YOU ALWAYS SAY I SEE MONSTERS BECAUSE I AM SICK! YOU NEVER LISTEN TO ME! ALL OF YOU ONLY TELL ME I'M SICK AND I HAVE TO TAKE THIS AND THAT!!!"

She doesn't seem to have picked up on the fact that you're in a hospital gown and have a chair leg instead of a syringe. She looks ready to run again, but she's not moving…. yet.

Looking out into the office, you see stuff from all kinds of rooms littered across the floor. Among the items you see syringes, but you have no idea what might be in them.

It looks like there are several ways to approach this:

[] Subdue her (with whatever methods you choose)
[] Write In: Keep trying to calm her down
[] Write In: Try an action of your choice

0e6581 No.5518

>>5515
"I'm a patient too…. I think"

6b8ae5 No.5543

>>5515
Put the chair leg down.

7be526 No.5563

>>5518
>>5543

"I think I'm a patient too…" you say as you put down your improvised weapon, hoping you would appear less threatening at least. You are met wit yet another shocked gaze, your statement clearly not reassuring her at all.

"You're… sick?" she pronounces slowly, after a moment of awkward silence.

"I'm not sure, I just-"

"Like… like… those from… *that* place.. below?…" - Terror is building up in her voice, she talks as if she was describing her deepest Nightmares.

"I didn't meet anyone on…"

"You're… you're one of those… sick people… sick… sick…" - she interrupts you again.

"I…"

"YOU FOLLOWED ME UP HERE JUST TO HURT ME MORE, DIDN'T YOU?!" - her scream pierces your ears yet again.

"WHY ARE YOU ALL DOING THIS TO ME?! LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE!…" she continues to cry out to leave her be, and corsses her arms in a defensive gesture, revealing a fresh, large wound on one of them.

It appears it was made with a knife. Is it possible that some psychopaths were tormenting her?

>Her voice and behaviour indicate a deep trauma, and you feel there may be even more than that. It's obvious she's having trouble understanding your intentions, though maybe you could calm her down if you were convincing enough.

Suddenly, you find her desperately scanning her surroundings. It appears she's up to something, but you're not sure what would that be. She may be just trying to escape, but it's possible she may try to attack you somehow.

[]Try to block the door and prevent her escape
[]Try to subdue her by force
[]Inject her with one of the syringes you've noticed in the room (you assume they probably contain sedatives, but you never know.)
[]Try talking to her some more (Write-in)
[]Move away from the door and let her go
[]Write-in

ae07c8 No.5565

>>5563
"I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to talk."

611b42 No.5568

>>5565
This but move away from the door as well. Show her that it's her choice to stay or leave.

54cb76 No.5592

>>5565
>>5568

You step further back, until you're against the far wall facing the strange girl. Her eyes have focused onto you, intense as the gaze of any sniper.

Putting your hands atop your head, you reply, "Look, I'm giving you space. It's up to you whether you go or stay, if you want to try and survive on your own. I'm not going to do anything to harm you, I just want to talk, and maybe get an explanation."

Her clenched jaw relaxes, and her eyes go wide. She squints her eyes, taking a long look at you. Wincing as her hand brushes against the cut, she crawls under a desk by the door instead of leaving.

Listening in, you hear her murmuring something to herself. At first it sounds like gibberish, but you manage to pick out the word "different" amid the muttering.

>You've giver her a couple minutes to calm down.

[] Stay silent, and wait for her to speak
[] How long have you been here?
[] What is this place?
[] What was that about monsters?
[] Write-In

7c2c4e No.5594

>>5592
>Sit crosslegged, still away from the door, slowly so as not to spook her.
>Speak gently, slowly, calming-frightened-animal-style. What's your name?
>Where are we?
>How long have you been here?
>Other wise just keep up a soothing litany of words to try to help herr calm down further.
>Silence isn't good for screamers. Best bet is to just keep speaking in a soft, even voice. If she looks ready to talk, pause and wait a little. If she clams up again then just start talking again.
>Don't bring up monsters or hurting people or anything that might set her off again, if she scarpers it's gonna be a while, if ever, before we can get her to trust us at all, or find someone else.

ae07c8 No.5595

>>5594
These work

611b42 No.5596

>>5594
seconded.

7be526 No.5637

>>5594

You let out a heavy sigh as you lean against one of the walls and slowly sit down, supporting your body on the harsh gray surface, unpleasant to touch, yet enough to give you a faint feeling of drowsiness.

The girl is watching you from beneath the desk, turning away and covering her face in her hands each time you look in her direction. You manage to catch her weary red eyes for few moments before that, observing you with a mixture of curosity and hopelessness.

You spend a while in complete silence to gather your thoughts. Despite such atmosphere being much more pleasant for you than her panicked screams, it's far from being serene. In such place it almost feels like even walls were observing you and marking your every move.

"Say…" you finally speak out. "What's your name?"

You notice your voice didn't sound as friendly as you wanted it to be, but it was far from being intimidating either.

She slowly raises her head for a moment, then lowers it again without letting out any noise at all. Locks of red hair are concealing her face again, you cannot even guess her reaction.
As you slowly started losing hope for any ways of communication, a quiet whimper reaches you from below the desk.

"S-Samantha…"

It looks like she has slowly started tolerating your presence at least. You're unsure if she can provide any comprehensible answers in her state, but decide that trying wouldn't hurt.

"Can you please tell me where are we now?"

"In a… hospital where… they said they help… the sick…"

She pauses for a deep breath.

"That's what they said… And that I'm… sick too… and I have to stay here until they… help me. Did they…" She moves away locks of hair covering her face and you meet her eyes again, this time wide open but somehow empty and emotionless. "Did they say you're… sick, too? Y-you're not one of those… *gulp* from below, are you?"

"No, I don't remember why am I here or how did I get here… I can't remember anything at all. I must have had an accident of sorts… I think."

She shifts her stare between you and the floor, but doesn't say anything else.

"Tell me, how long have you been here?"

Her eyes fix on you once again, looking somehow troubled by your question.

"Long… don't remember… stopped… asking…"

As she partially calmed down and stopped responding to you in adrenaline-induced fits, it looks like she has to put some effort to formulate responses. Sounds as if her senses might have been dulled somehow.

[]Ask about her sickness
[]Ask about "monsters"
[]Ask about "people from below"
[]Ask about her wound
[]Ask about the medicine she's been taking
[]Offer her to ask you something instead
[]Write-in

611b42 No.5641

>>5637
"You can ask me something too if you want. Mind, I can't really remember anything so the answers are probably useless, but still."

e7ff72 No.5642

>>5641
>>5637

>Seconded with having her ask. Not so much to give her info as we haven't any yet, but to build trust.
>Ask about her wound, and what sort of sickness she has.

611b42 No.5670

>>5642
I don't think we should ask about her sickness to be honest. Let's keep it simple for now and try to build trust. Also, let's keep it practical, does she know where the kitchen/cantina/whatever is. We'll need to eat something sooner or later.

053843 No.5674

>>5670
Didn't even think of that. Ok. Do what this anon says

54cb76 No.5681

After another minute of nothing, you break the silence.

"You can ask me something too if you want. Mind, I can't really remember anything so the answers are probably useless, but still."

Samantha nods slowly, but still doesn't open her mouth.

Maybe if she's in substandard condition, she needs something else to focus on to bring her back to full functionality.

"Say, where's the cafeteria around here? I'm starving after laying in that bed for so long, and you don't exactly look on the good end of things either."

Surprised, she sits up for a second, smacking her head on the bottom of the desk. Holding our her hands quickly, she speaks.

"N-no! Don't worry, that wasn't your fault!" She rubs her head with her hands. It looks like it was pretty painful.

"Look, if you show me where the cafeteria is, we can get some ice for that. I'm sure you'll be able to recall some more with some food in you. I haven't heard anything else so far in the building, so we should be able to dine with relative peace."

You step lightly down to the cafeteria, with Sam directing you where to turn. She stays a safe distance behind you, still cautious.

Stepping past more ruin and rubble, you go down a flight of steps, through a series of silent hallways, and finally into an open food court.

A small voice rises up behind you.
"I… don't know where to look. I only was allowed to come here a few times."

>You've calmed down some, and with that, I'm going to introduce a sanity meter. It's important to keep this from going too high, but for now it's set at 0.

>Along with this sanity meter, there will be other things you'll want to keep an eye on that will be introduced as time passes.

You've made it down to the dining area, but Samantha has no idea where anything is. From here, you might want to treat her head, find food, or look for particular supplies.

If you'd like to talk to her some more, the previous questions still stand, as well as any write in.

102392 No.5703

>sanity meter: 0.
Making the base identity 1 would be better. This speaks volumes. Negative foreshadowing, yea have been warned. Selah!

Lets poke around for a fridge. If we find some ice, offer it to her. Don't try to treat her directly our-self.

611b42 No.5721

>>5703
Seconded

b10d00 No.5722

>>5703
while on the way to the fridge perhaps we should take a look at our surroundings so we have a good idea of any escape routes, nearby weapons, other things of interest

611b42 No.5723

>>5722
On the topic of weapons, let's swap the chair leg for a kitchen knife

b10d00 No.5724

>>5723
we will also need food seeing as this was the reason for coming to the cafeteria. for ourselves and Samantha. I doubt we will survive long without A) a plan and knowledge of what is going on B) food and possibly medicine C) a weapon and perhaps some form of protection

54cb76 No.5731

>>5703
Alright, that sounds fair.

Sanity meter's base is now one.
You'll get the next update in just a little bit.

102392 No.5747

>System quibbling hath costed you a sanity point. Play now begins …

'ere we go!

102392 No.5749

Oh, and I'm all for upgrades, but let's see if we can find something smallish that can be concealed instead. Maybe hold on to our mashie niblick a bit longer.

I'm thinking here of what our companion might be reacting about a knife wielding tot along.

54cb76 No.5761

Scanning your surroundings, you note that there are several doorways leading out of the cafeteria. Behind you is the staircase that led down to the ground floor, but you're not ready to go outside yet.

Windows to the outside reveal more of the dark forest. A low light falls across the tables, painting a grim mosaic of shadows on the floor.

There's another table in the corner with a low hanging tablecloth. A person could go unnoticed under there if they wanted to.

As you creep toward the kitchen, a sound puts you at full alert. An eerie, raspy scream cuts through the night.

You check to make sure Sam hasn't freaked out, but it's quite the contrary. A small grin has formed on her face from seeing you anxious.

In a small voice, she says, "It's a barn owl. My parents taught me that sound since it used to scare me when I was young."

She coughs twice, and then lowers her head. Thinking of family might be tough on her in a remote place like this, poor girl.

"Let's see if we can find anything back here, okay? I'll go in first. Look for ice and a cloth to put on that head of yours, and I'll search for food and other useful tools."

You step into the kitchen. It's in good shape despite all the chaos in the rest of the building. Most of the food here is going to be thawing in the freezers and won't be any good, but you manage to find some canned food farther along on a shelf. Maybe if you had a blanket or something to tie it up in, you could carry more.

You snatch up a can opener, but refrain from grabbing any of the kitchen knives you see laying out. You don't want Samantha running off on you just yet.

Small feet pitter past you as Sam passes by, hugging the wall. She's still keeping some distance, even though she's followed you this far.

She goes back to the walk in freezer. As you search for something to hold the cans, she lets out a shriek and runs out crying, slamming into one of the tables.

"I-in there! There's…there's a man!" Samantha hiccups and lets out a fresh sob. You rush over to the freezer brandishing the chair leg, ready to strike. As you peer into the freezer, you do indeed see a man, but he's not of the moving variety. Sprawled on the floor in a patient's gown, it seems that they've been here for quite some time.

Something steel inside of you allows you to reach down and check for a pulse. Feeling none, you gingerly step around the body and pick a cold bag of chicken fingers off the shelf. Once intended to be delicious, even the chicken fingers had fallen to a lower calling, just like everything else in the building.

The body had no signs of a struggle on it, so it's most likely that the patient ran into it to hide, and froze to death. What could be so bad that it would make you stay in a walk in freezer until death's kiss came?

You edge toward Sam, holding out the bag of chicken. "The man in there won't be bothering anyone. He's long gone. Just relax, and find a cloth to put over this, then apply it to the bump on your head."

She doesn't budge, so you toss it onto the table next to her. With trembling fingers, she grasps the bag, and steps back toward the entrance to the kitchen. She cases it in a small rag, hold it to her temple, and goes back into the cafeteria.

There's no medicine here. The first aid cabinets on the wall here have been emptied. You'll have to check somewhere else if you want any hopes of finding a full one.

Your thoughts are interrupted, as you hear footsteps coming from the hall with the stairway. You're near the entrance to the kitchen, but thankfully the footsteps come from the far side of the room.

The steps don't sound erratic. If anything, they sound purposeful and calm.

Sam darts back into the kitchen, and slumps against the wall. She's clamped hands over her mouth, trying her best not to make any sound.

What's your plan, /qu/? The footsteps are still about ten to fifteen seconds away by the sound of them, so you have a little bit of time to act before whoever it is arrives.

Sanity Level: 1
Resources: Chair leg, Can Opener, and the contents of the kitchen, including the body.

102392 No.5766

Finger to the lips and an encouraging nod to Samantha. Wave her over to us - under the table with the cloth.

611b42 No.5770

>>5761
> Maybe if you had a blanket or something to tie it up in,
We have a fucking tablecloth

That being said, since we didn't use it for that purpose we might as well hide beneath it.

3022e2 No.5795

>>5766
>>5770
Be sure to grab the biggest knife available before hiding.

54cb76 No.5935

>>5766
>>5770
>>5795

You grab the biggest knife you can find off a nearby cutting board. It's no butcher knife, but it's not tiny either. You scoot over to Samantha, crouching close to the floor. Her eyes grow wide as you approach, but she nods when you point to the table in the corner.

Keeping one hand straining against her mouth, she scrambles quietly underneath the tablecloth. Following behind her, you manage to get underneath several seconds before the footsteps enter the room.

Whatever it is stops walking, pausing after coming into your space.

Samantha has her face turned toward the conjoining walls, knees curled u p toward her chest. Tears stream down her face, but she manages to contain any sobs.

Kneeling down awkwardly, you manage to see under the tablecloth from the shadowy portion of the cafeteria. At the far end of the room you see a tall figure with excellent posture. It's definitely in the shape of a human and apparently carrying an object.

Moonlight cascades through the windows to the cafeteria, revealing more of the figure as they step forward again.

A bald man in a doctor's coat is the owner of the footsteps. Carrying a clipboard, he scans the room. Efficient in his movements, no unnecessary effort is taken to move about.

As you strain to see under the tablecloth without rustling it, he finally speaks. A deep, neutral tone comes out, as uniform as the movements of the man.

Despite what he says, the tone of voice hardly changes.

"Not one survivor yet. What a pity. I would have hoped for a better outcome then this. Those savages had to make a mess, didn't they?"

The man steps closer to the kitchen, and as you look closer, you can see that he's smelling the air. His body suddenly takes a more alert stance, as if he's noticed something. He takes another step forward, but you're not sure if he's moving toward you or the kitchen as his angle.

You can
[] Wait for further action from the doctor
[]Leave Sam under the table, and come out to talk to him
[] Try to get Sam to come out from under the table with you
[]Get him to turn his back, and then try to take decisive action
[] Write In

Sanit Meter: 1
Resources: Knife, can opener, chair leg.

611b42 No.6069

>>5935

> [x]Leave Sam under the table, and come out to talk to him

First words would be a warning not to make any quick movements. Then ask him what happened here.


b10d00 No.6072

>>5935

[X] Wait for further action from the doctor


1792b3 No.6073

>>5935

>>6069

> agreed with this anon. Let's not get Sam any more traumatised if possible


ae07c8 No.6082

>>6069

>>6072

>>6073

None of this adds up. There's something freaky going on, and the doctor probably can't be trusted. Stay in hiding until he leaves, then a little while longer in case he comes back.


b10d00 No.6086

>>6082

I suggested wait for further action from the doctor to see if he is coming to check the table you and Samantha is hiding under. If he is then we need to leg it with Samantha as fast as we can we might have a kitchen knife but something tells me we might not be able to take him on in a fight and live or worse yet he does die but it draws the attention of worse things hiding in the shadows.


54cb76 No.6146

Approaching the Doctor instinctively seems like a bad idea, but you still decide to take the risk. You're growing sick of guessing all sorts of nightmares and not even being able to say your first name. Perhaps he may even hold some clues to your identity?

You decide to face whatever chances are out there and approach him, after a minute of intensive thinking. Physically you look stronger than him, although you're still partially weakened by the coma. But on the other side, you're armed. You hope that an adrenaline rush helps you stay focused enough to defend yourself in such state in case something goes wrong.

"Samantha, I need you to stay here for a moment" - you whisper - "Until I make sure it's safe. Don't worry about me."

You see your face reflecting in a pair of concerned eyes.

"Promise you'll be back soon?…"

"Promise."

After staring at you for a moment, as if doubting the truthfulness of your statement, she curls up again, with red locks of hair falling down on her face in the same fashion as when you have found her in the office. She lies like that, almost perfectly still.

You take a while to compose yourself, and hold the knife tight. It's far from being a real weapon, but you notice that you feel strangely… comfortable with it in your hand.

Trying not to make any sudden movements, you slowly rise from the tablecloth, only to find yourself facing the Doctor directly. So much for Stealth.

He reacts quite quickly, jumping back several steps and reaching for something in his coat. Interestingly enough, while surprised by your appearance, he's not showing any signs of shock or fear. Even his spontaneous reaction seemed to look as if he knew what he was doing… or was it? You probably must be imagining things.

"I only want to talk" you say, guessing that with the knife in your hand, you look as suspicious to him as he looks to you.

The Doctor raises an eyebrow, slightly surprised. You assume he expected more aggressive behavior from you.

"I didn't expect to find anybody up here" he finally says. "And certainly not of talkative kind."

You notice he glances at your knife as he says it.

"Where are we now and… what the hell is going on in this place? Where are we right now anyway?" despite trying to keep a peaceful tone, you can't help but start to sound nervous. You've seen enough of disturbing things in here to do so.

"You mean you don't know where we are…? Hmmm, how come I can't remember seeing your face around here…"

He ponders for a moment.

"Ah, I know! You must be Spencer's… Yes, that would explain everything."

He wipes some dust off his coat.

"A more appropriate question would be where we *used* to be, rather than where we are. More or less four hours ago, this was St. Sophia's Hospital, a respectable medical instiution for patients with severe emotional and mental problems. Now it has become a gravesite to half of the staff, and a prison sentence to the other half when the authorities find out about all this mess, I'm afraid."

"4 hours ago we have had an… outbreak. I don't know the details, I wasn't down there when it happened, and there was no time to sort it out anyway. The lowest floor of the Institution housed the most… unstable and unpredictable of our patients."

You understand this meant "A wide array of maniacs and psychopaths."

"They've managed to get their hands on equipment of the Security Team somehow, and spread all over the Institution. They've attacked the personnel and other patients alike in their Frenzy, and as you have observed yourself, they have completely obliterated the place. The situation is under control now, though at a great cost. I came up here to assess the damage and look out for any survivors."

This sounds troubling. But you still don't even know who you are.

"Do you have any idea who I am and how did I get here? I cannot remember anything at all."

"I apologise, but I don't really know anything about you. I recall that you were Doctor Spencer's patient, brought here shortly before this tragedy has happened. He only mentioned you had some sort of accident… car crash I think. You were brought here because this was the closest medical facility available. We were about to transfer you to a proper Hospital and then it happened."

You give a deep sigh of relief. It appears you're not mentally ill after all. And it looks like you may have some clues towards your identity at last.

"Can you tell me where Dr. Spencer is right now? I need to talk to him."

1/2


54cb76 No.6147

>>6146

The Doctor gives you a sad smile.

"Where is he now? Hopefully in a better place. What used to be him has been spread across the walls two floors below us."

So far, that's an answer, but you can still feel in your gut that something's not right. Regardless, at least the doctor is remaining civil. It's time to find out more about what's happened.

[]Ask about Samantha

[]Ask something else about Hospital (specify what)

[]Ask if you can leave soon

[]Ask what should you do now

[]Tell Sam she can come out now

[]Write-in

2/2


ae07c8 No.6149

>>6146

>>6147

Ask how long it will be before the police arrive. Don't let him know about Samantha yet.


611b42 No.6194

>>6149

seconded.


f67a4f No.6227

>>6147

>>6149

>>6194

>thirded. Also ask how safe the place is now, and whether he has seen any survivors. Try to make sure you don't seem threatening, hopefully steer him to pissing off so sam can come out and yu can maybe make a break for it. We need to look for offices and records, hopefully Dr Spence had full tenure and has a cushy office somewhere with documents, evidence.


3022e2 No.6254

Can we do some sort of roll to see if he's lying to us or omitting something?


54cb76 No.6338

Sorry for the delay, guys.

I just wanna give you an update on the quest.

Yes, it's still happening, but One Eyed has give up board ownership and involvement with this quest due to some life circumstances. That's what we've been trying to sort out these past few days.

I'll continue where this left off, so don't fret, you will get more of your quest.


76a308 No.6339

>>6338

No worries man, just keep at it when you can.



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