Hospital

[ad0gg]

RE: Hospital

I'm gonna say... B.


Just kidding. A.

[MalReynolds]

RE: Hospital

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

You have 10 turns before you pass out.

A: Enter the ER.
B: Go out to the lobby and have a sit down
C: Try and fix the phone.
D: Enter the dark corner.

[pntballa18]

RE: Hospital

I wonder....
A

[MalReynolds]

RE: Hospital

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

--

The best course of action, you decide, would be to enter the ER. You enter the passcode, and the door clicks. You push it open, and step into the hallway. To the left is the actual Emergency Room. There's an operation table, stained with blood. In the corner, you see a needle and thread. To your right, there is a closed door. Up a ways, the hall forks, to the left and to the right. On the right side you note the universal symbol for "Rest Room".

You have 9 turns before you pass out.

A: Go to the rest rooms
B: Enter the OR and grab the needle and thread
C: Go out to the lobby and have a sit down
D: Explore down the left fork.

[Matthew4444]

PLUGH

B

[MalReynolds]

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

--

The best course of action, you decide, would be to enter the ER. You enter the passcode, and the door clicks. You push it open, and step into the hallway. To the left is the actual Emergency Room. There's an operation table, stained with blood. In the corner, you see a needle and thread. To your right, there is a closed door. Up a ways, the hall forks, to the left and to the right. On the right side you note the universal symbol for "Rest Room".

--

The needle and the thread are your main priorities right now, considering that you're bleeding out of your skull. You open the door to the OR and step inside. It smells sterile, despite the bloodstains on the bed and the floor. As you walk through the room, you notice that the IV machine is filled with a foul brown liquid. You're so incensed with the liquid, that fail to notice the large object blocking your path.

Gazing upwards, you immediatley wish you had looked somewhere else for the thread. Standing in your way is something that's as tall as a man, but that is where the similarities stop. It has no eyes, instead, thousands of tiny worms riggle in it's sockets. Where his mouth would be is nothing but half assed stitching. He has no ears.

His left arm is completley gone. Instead, he has a tendril that grows out of his shoulder, a blade on inlaid on the side closest to him. It's stained red. He doesn't have another arm. His legs bend inwards, and the knees hit each other, creating a constant clacking noise. The skin that covers his skeleton is gray, wrinkled and leather-like.

The needle and thread is just behind him.

He swings his blade arm at you, and you duck, the blade barley missing you.

You have 8 turns before you pass out.

A: Try to run around him
B: Grab the scissor blade out of your pocket and fight
C: Stab him with the IV
D: Push him
E: Punch him
F: Turn around and run

[Bahamut-X]

I'll go with C.

[MalReynolds]

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

--

The best course of action, you decide, would be to enter the ER. You enter the passcode, and the door clicks. You push it open, and step into the hallway. To the left is the actual Emergency Room. There's an operation table, stained with blood. In the corner, you see a needle and thread. To your right, there is a closed door. Up a ways, the hall forks, to the left and to the right. On the right side you note the universal symbol for "Rest Room".

--

The needle and the thread are your main priorities right now, considering that you're bleeding out of your skull. You open the door to the OR and step inside. It smells sterile, despite the bloodstains on the bed and the floor. As you walk through the room, you notice that the IV machine is filled with a foul brown liquid. You're so incensed with the liquid, that fail to notice the large object blocking your path.

Gazing upwards, you immediatley wish you had looked somewhere else for the thread. Standing in your way is something that's as tall as a man, but that is where the similarities stop. It has no eyes, instead, thousands of tiny worms riggle in it's sockets. Where his mouth would be is nothing but half assed stitching. He has no ears.

His left arm is completley gone. Instead, he has a tendril that grows out of his shoulder, a blade on inlaid on the side closest to him. It's stained red. He doesn't have another arm. His legs bend inwards, and the knees hit each other, creating a constant clacking noise. The skin that covers his skeleton is gray, wrinkled and leather-like.

The needle and thread is just behind him.

He swings his blade arm at you, and you duck, the blade barley missing you.

--

Quickly thinking, you grab the IV and shove the neelde into it's worm ridden eye-socket. It makes a satisfying noise, much like hitting a watermelon with a small hammer, but on an even smaller scale. A noise escapes from its stitched mouth, and you grab the IV bag. It swings, cutting your arm. You squeeze the IV bag, and the pus begins to fill it's head. It moans, and swings again. You dodge, and kick it in the knee. It falls, screaming, the sludge beginning to pour out of it's eye. It writhes in agony on the ground, swinging its tentacle, trying to hit you, but you dodge each attempt.

Staring at the eye, you try to be witty.

"See you around," you say, smirking. You lift your leg, and step on it's head. It dissolves like pudding under the weight of your foot.

Your arm has been damaged, but it is not bleeding. The sore is purple, which probably isn't a good thing. Until you know what is wrong, you cannot fix the damage that has been done. You grab the needle and thread.

You have 7 turns until you pass out.

A: Go to the rest rooms
B: Go out to the lobby and have a sit down
C: Explore down the left fork.

[msbrunnettemickey]

A.

[Bahamut-X]

Do B. It's been around for awhile and no one's done it. It must be important.

[MalReynolds]

(First come, first serve. Sorry)

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

--

The best course of action, you decide, would be to enter the ER. You enter the passcode, and the door clicks. You push it open, and step into the hallway. To the left is the actual Emergency Room. There's an operation table, stained with blood. In the corner, you see a needle and thread. To your right, there is a closed door. Up a ways, the hall forks, to the left and to the right. On the right side you note the universal symbol for "Rest Room".

--

The needle and the thread are your main priorities right now, considering that you're bleeding out of your skull. You open the door to the OR and step inside. It smells sterile, despite the bloodstains on the bed and the floor. As you walk through the room, you notice that the IV machine is filled with a foul brown liquid. You're so incensed with the liquid, that fail to notice the large object blocking your path.

Gazing upwards, you immediatley wish you had looked somewhere else for the thread. Standing in your way is something that's as tall as a man, but that is where the similarities stop. It has no eyes, instead, thousands of tiny worms riggle in it's sockets. Where his mouth would be is nothing but half assed stitching. He has no ears.

His left arm is completley gone. Instead, he has a tendril that grows out of his shoulder, a blade on inlaid on the side closest to him. It's stained red. He doesn't have another arm. His legs bend inwards, and the knees hit each other, creating a constant clacking noise. The skin that covers his skeleton is gray, wrinkled and leather-like.

The needle and thread is just behind him.

He swings his blade arm at you, and you duck, the blade barley missing you.

--

Quickly thinking, you grab the IV and shove the neelde into it's worm ridden eye-socket. It makes a satisfying noise, much like hitting a watermelon with a small hammer, but on an even smaller scale. A noise escapes from its stitched mouth, and you grab the IV bag. It swings, cutting your arm. You squeeze the IV bag, and the pus begins to fill it's head. It moans, and swings again. You dodge, and kick it in the knee. It falls, screaming, the sludge beginning to pour out of it's eye. It writhes in agony on the ground, swinging its tentacle, trying to hit you, but you dodge each attempt.

Staring at the eye, you try to be witty.

"See you around," you say, smirking. You lift your leg, and step on it's head. It dissolves like pudding under the weight of your foot.

Your arm has been damaged, but it is not bleeding. The sore is purple, which probably isn't a good thing. Until you know what is wrong, you cannot fix the damage that has been done. You grab the needle and thread.

--

You exit the OR and head down the lime green hallway to the fork. It's no mystery that you need a place where you can see your forehead to sew it up, so you decide that the bathroom is the place for you. You enter the mens room, but it is pitch black. If you go in, you might be eaten by a grue. You head across the hall to the ladies room.

If your friends could only see you now.

You walk into the restroom, and notice that one the ground is a long blood streak that leads to one of the stalls. It looks as if someone had been dragged through here. You try to open the stall, but it is locked. You knock.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?"

A moan escapes.

"Nevermind, there's no one out here."

The door explodes outwards, missing you by inches. It shatters a mirror behind you.

As if your day couldn't possibly get any worse, what stands before you is the shell of a human being. It's vacant eyes look you over, but they don't seem to register anything. It sniffs. It must smell your blood. It begins to shuffle towards you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say this was a good, old fashioned zombie.

Or in this case, a zombette.

A: Kick
B: Punch
C: Grab glass from mirror
D: Run (Takes you back to hallway, and lobby)
E: Take scissor blades from pocked
F: Push it down

[JurseyRider734]

F.

You can't really kill zombies, right?

[MalReynolds]

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

--

The best course of action, you decide, would be to enter the ER. You enter the passcode, and the door clicks. You push it open, and step into the hallway. To the left is the actual Emergency Room. There's an operation table, stained with blood. In the corner, you see a needle and thread. To your right, there is a closed door. Up a ways, the hall forks, to the left and to the right. On the right side you note the universal symbol for "Rest Room".

--

The needle and the thread are your main priorities right now, considering that you're bleeding out of your skull. You open the door to the OR and step inside. It smells sterile, despite the bloodstains on the bed and the floor. As you walk through the room, you notice that the IV machine is filled with a foul brown liquid. You're so incensed with the liquid, that fail to notice the large object blocking your path.

Gazing upwards, you immediatley wish you had looked somewhere else for the thread. Standing in your way is something that's as tall as a man, but that is where the similarities stop. It has no eyes, instead, thousands of tiny worms riggle in it's sockets. Where his mouth would be is nothing but half assed stitching. He has no ears.

His left arm is completley gone. Instead, he has a tendril that grows out of his shoulder, a blade on inlaid on the side closest to him. It's stained red. He doesn't have another arm. His legs bend inwards, and the knees hit each other, creating a constant clacking noise. The skin that covers his skeleton is gray, wrinkled and leather-like.

The needle and thread is just behind him.

He swings his blade arm at you, and you duck, the blade barley missing you.

--

Quickly thinking, you grab the IV and shove the neelde into it's worm ridden eye-socket. It makes a satisfying noise, much like hitting a watermelon with a small hammer, but on an even smaller scale. A noise escapes from its stitched mouth, and you grab the IV bag. It swings, cutting your arm. You squeeze the IV bag, and the pus begins to fill it's head. It moans, and swings again. You dodge, and kick it in the knee. It falls, screaming, the sludge beginning to pour out of it's eye. It writhes in agony on the ground, swinging its tentacle, trying to hit you, but you dodge each attempt.

Staring at the eye, you try to be witty.

"See you around," you say, smirking. You lift your leg, and step on it's head. It dissolves like pudding under the weight of your foot.

Your arm has been damaged, but it is not bleeding. The sore is purple, which probably isn't a good thing. Until you know what is wrong, you cannot fix the damage that has been done. You grab the needle and thread.

--

You exit the OR and head down the lime green hallway to the fork. It's no mystery that you need a place where you can see your forehead to sew it up, so you decide that the bathroom is the place for you. You enter the mens room, but it is pitch black. If you go in, you might be eaten by a grue. You head across the hall to the ladies room.

If your friends could only see you now.

You walk into the restroom, and notice that one the ground is a long blood streak that leads to one of the stalls. It looks as if someone had been dragged through here. You try to open the stall, but it is locked. You knock.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?"

A moan escapes.

"Nevermind, there's no one out here."

The door explodes outwards, missing you by inches. It shatters a mirror behind you.

As if your day couldn't possibly get any worse, what stands before you is the shell of a human being. It's vacant eyes look you over, but they don't seem to register anything. It sniffs. It must smell your blood. It begins to shuffle towards you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say this was a good, old fashioned zombie.

Or in this case, a zombette.

--

With all your might, you push the zombette down. It moans and tries to get up.

You remember reading somewhere that to destroy a zombie, you need to destroy the brain or remove the head. Using this philosophy, you pick up the heavy bathroom door, and put one end on the zombette's neck. You push down, severing the head. Sadly, the head continues to bite at the air. But the body remains motionless.

Rules must be different for zombettes, you think to yourself as you kick it into the wall, completley obliterating it into a red splotch. Reminds you of the spaghetti sauce you had the night before. You turn around, and look for the mirror. There's a very clean rectangle where it used to be, and glass shards in the sink. You can do a quick patch job now, but it won't hold. The stitching is bound to come out.

The process was painful, and you shudder at the thought of doing it again in the near future. You remove a pen-light from the nurses breast pocket.

Unless your stitching comes loose, you should be fine.

A: Explore the left branch
B: Go back to the lobby and have a sit down
C: Go back to the nurses station and use the pen-light
D: Kick the hell out of the first monster's corpse

[msbrunnettemickey]

B.

[MalReynolds]

The slip of paper in your hand is wet; it's been raining for ten minutes. You check the slip, but you can't make out the address anymore. This is probably it.

You kick the stand on your bike, and lean it over. Gazing upward, you make a note of the hospital name, "Blessed Heart". The letters are red, but they soon fade from sight as you step under the ambulance awning. The automatic doors slide open, and you step inside. You slowly approach the front desk, expecting to see a friendly nurse to direct you to your friends room... But instead you find...

No one.

The door shuts behind you.

The hair on your arm stands up, and you shiver. You walk back to the door, but it doesn't open. You break out into a cold sweat, the lights beating down on you but not warming... Goosebumps run up your arms.

--

There's a trashcan to your side, as well as several rows of chairs. Red vinyl, it looks like. The light in the corner is flickering, casting a strange shadow on the floor. The nurses desk is empty, but there is a phone on the surface. Upon closer examination, you notice that the phone has been disconnected. The line has been severed with what looks like a knife, or a dull pair of scissors.

--

Frantically, you begin to look for a way out. Your eyes dialate, and the walls feel like they're closing in. Your breath is coming in short gasps, not seeming to fill your lungs.

You grab the trashcan, and scatter the contents along the floor. It is heavy in your hands, and you look at the glass door. With all of your strength, you hurl the trashcan at the door. You close your eyes to avoid the glass, but the window doesn't shatter. Instead, you hear a strange thudding noise, and open your eyes just in time to see the metal trashcan flying back at you.

Because you waited so long to smash the door, panic has set in. You are unable to avoid the trashcan, and it hits you in the face. Realization hits, although not as hard as the trashcan, and a sharp pain spreads across your forehead. You see blood begin to drip from your chin, and you pass out.

You awaken when lightning strikes and the thunderclap rattles your bones. You're still bleeding from the forehead; it looks like you'll need to stitch this shut or very slowly bleed to death. It shouldn't be too hard; you are in a hospital after all.

--

You look down at the trash that's scattered about. Most of it is red, soaking up your blood. Any papers in here that could have offered information are now ruined. In the clutter, you do spy a pair of scissors. You pick them up, and then continue looking around the trash. You spy a length of fabric. You wrap this around the scisccor tip and place the scissors in your pocket.

There's another length of fabric on the ground, which you wrap around your head, extending the time you can go before you pass out from bloodloss.

--

You stagger over to the nurses station door, using a chair to help you keep balance. It's locked. You trundle over to the ER doors. Those too are locked, but with a numerical keypad. Things aren't exactly coming up aces for you. There's something odd about the nurses station; it's not directly open. There are two holes for forms to be handed through, and the rest is made out of plexiglass. It would be impossible to vault into the nurses station, break the glass, or fit into the station through the form holes... You can, however, fit a hand in and grab the forms on the other side.

--

You slide your hand under the plexiglass, but you can't reach the papers.... You remember the scissors you had in your pocket. Those would reach. You get a firm grip on the handle, and slide the point towards the forms. The tip brushes the form away from you, and it falls off the counter. Damn. You hear something click. It sounds like the door locking again, but more metallic. You begin to slide your hand out, when you realize what was making that noise. You look up, and in the cieling of the nurses station, there is a blade, long, sharp, and poised over your hand. There's another click, and the blade falls.

You try to slide your hand out, but the scissors get caught in the opening. You turn your hand, and the blade falls, cleaving the scissor blades from the handle where they were. With a sigh of relief, you put the handles back in your pocket.

--

The light flickering in the corner has been bothering you for some time. It's constant flicker has proven to be a minor annoyance, and in light of the blade almost severing your hand... The andrenaline is a bit much. Your frustration level is high. You run over to the light, and look up. There's something in the vaccuum tube. Standing on your support chair, you reach up, and unscrew the lightbulb.

Surprisingly, it's not hot. It's cold to the touch. It continues to flicker in your hand. One end seems to have a screw on cap. As you tilt the long bulb, you hear something slide to the end, and the flickering stops. You carefully remove the end cap, and tilt the bulb in the other direction.

Something falls into your hand. It looks like an enlarged lightning bug, it's legs still kicking, and it's wings broken. It half heartedly lights up. It was impaled by the key that was stashed in the light, impaled when you tilted the bulb. You slide the overgrown bug off of the key, and examine it closely. There's an engraving near the top:

"Nurse Station Key"

---

You tenativley enter the nurse station: you scan for traps, now wary because of the hand guillotine. You step over a trip wire, and enter the half dark room. You avoid going to the corners, or you will be eaten by a grue. You scan the floor, looking for the papers that you pushed away. They've fallen under the counter. You retrieve one, and then grab the scissor blades from the counter. You try to grab the guillotine, but it is embedded too deeply.

You turn the paper over in your hand, and on the back it says:

"Dear staff,
As of late, many people have been gaining access to the ER. Many patients have been leaving. This is completley unnacepptable, so effective immediatley, there is a passcode change. The new passcode is 7896584. Please do not lose this, as the process to change the door locks is quite strenuous, and if the passcode falls into patient hands then we would have another cleanup weekend.
Thank you.
Dr. Moriarty Watson"

You note the passcode. You keep scanning the room, but there is little else of interest.

--

The best course of action, you decide, would be to enter the ER. You enter the passcode, and the door clicks. You push it open, and step into the hallway. To the left is the actual Emergency Room. There's an operation table, stained with blood. In the corner, you see a needle and thread. To your right, there is a closed door. Up a ways, the hall forks, to the left and to the right. On the right side you note the universal symbol for "Rest Room".

--

The needle and the thread are your main priorities right now, considering that you're bleeding out of your skull. You open the door to the OR and step inside. It smells sterile, despite the bloodstains on the bed and the floor. As you walk through the room, you notice that the IV machine is filled with a foul brown liquid. You're so incensed with the liquid, that fail to notice the large object blocking your path.

Gazing upwards, you immediatley wish you had looked somewhere else for the thread. Standing in your way is something that's as tall as a man, but that is where the similarities stop. It has no eyes, instead, thousands of tiny worms riggle in it's sockets. Where his mouth would be is nothing but half assed stitching. He has no ears.

His left arm is completley gone. Instead, he has a tendril that grows out of his shoulder, a blade on inlaid on the side closest to him. It's stained red. He doesn't have another arm. His legs bend inwards, and the knees hit each other, creating a constant clacking noise. The skin that covers his skeleton is gray, wrinkled and leather-like.

The needle and thread is just behind him.

He swings his blade arm at you, and you duck, the blade barley missing you.

--

Quickly thinking, you grab the IV and shove the neelde into it's worm ridden eye-socket. It makes a satisfying noise, much like hitting a watermelon with a small hammer, but on an even smaller scale. A noise escapes from its stitched mouth, and you grab the IV bag. It swings, cutting your arm. You squeeze the IV bag, and the pus begins to fill it's head. It moans, and swings again. You dodge, and kick it in the knee. It falls, screaming, the sludge beginning to pour out of it's eye. It writhes in agony on the ground, swinging its tentacle, trying to hit you, but you dodge each attempt.

Staring at the eye, you try to be witty.

"See you around," you say, smirking. You lift your leg, and step on it's head. It dissolves like pudding under the weight of your foot.

Your arm has been damaged, but it is not bleeding. The sore is purple, which probably isn't a good thing. Until you know what is wrong, you cannot fix the damage that has been done. You grab the needle and thread.

--

You exit the OR and head down the lime green hallway to the fork. It's no mystery that you need a place where you can see your forehead to sew it up, so you decide that the bathroom is the place for you. You enter the mens room, but it is pitch black. If you go in, you might be eaten by a grue. You head across the hall to the ladies room.

If your friends could only see you now.

You walk into the restroom, and notice that one the ground is a long blood streak that leads to one of the stalls. It looks as if someone had been dragged through here. You try to open the stall, but it is locked. You knock.

"Hello? Is anyone in there?"

A moan escapes.

"Nevermind, there's no one out here."

The door explodes outwards, missing you by inches. It shatters a mirror behind you.

As if your day couldn't possibly get any worse, what stands before you is the shell of a human being. It's vacant eyes look you over, but they don't seem to register anything. It sniffs. It must smell your blood. It begins to shuffle towards you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say this was a good, old fashioned zombie.

Or in this case, a zombette.

--

With all your might, you push the zombette down. It moans and tries to get up.

You remember reading somewhere that to destroy a zombie, you need to destroy the brain or remove the head. Using this philosophy, you pick up the heavy bathroom door, and put one end on the zombette's neck. You push down, severing the head. Sadly, the head continues to bite at the air. But the body remains motionless.

Rules must be different for zombettes, you think to yourself as you kick it into the wall, completley obliterating it into a red splotch. Reminds you of the spaghetti sauce you had the night before. You turn around, and look for the mirror. There's a very clean rectangle where it used to be, and glass shards in the sink. You can do a quick patch job now, but it won't hold. The stitching is bound to come out.

The process was painful, and you shudder at the thought of doing it again in the near future. You remove a pen-light from the nurses breast pocket.

Unless your stitching comes loose, you should be fine.

--

In light of all the excitement, you decide to go back to the lobby and have a sit down. You have a seat in the vinly chairs, and breathe. After about five minutes of this, you decide that this probably wasn't the most productive thing to do.

A: Explore the left branch
B: Enter the nurses office
C: Kick the hell out of the corpse of the first monster (Now named "Adam")