[center]-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [IMG]http://i64.tinypic.com/2rrsyly.png[/IMG] [code]St. Mercer Hospital[/code] [sub][@FernStone][/sub] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cyrus listened as two of the women in front of him attempted to explain the situation. “O[i][b]h, were just having a friendly conversation in the middle of a hospital,[/b][/i]” the one responded and Cyrus crooked up his right eyebrow at the sarcastic response. She was pale, extremely so, and was somehow not at all bothered by the scene before her; the two dead bodies and a possible third on the way. “[i][b].....something coming after all of us and we need to get away from it. That’s not very reassuring is it,[/b][/i]” Cyrus missed the first half of what she said but he heard the second part all too clearly. Something, not someone. His eyes darted towards the two dead bodies and felt a wave of unease wash over him. There was something wrong with the two bodies; besides them, you know, being dead. There was a feeling in the back of his head telling him that they did not belong here. Not in this lobby, nor in this hospital, not even in this city or in this state; no, there was some other-worldly presence he felt when he cast his gaze upon them. "[i][b]No, I, uh,[/b][/i]" Cyrus paused as his staring conteset with the dead man continued, "[i][b]very, ha,[/b][/i]" he paused and let out a nervous chuckle, "[i][b]very vague,[/b][/i]" he finished. His attention, however, drifted from the bodies and towards the woman named Zoey. Something about her seemed off as well. Was it the fact that she was pressing another woman into the wall? Was it the question she asked earlier? Or was it the blue elec- “wait,” Cyrus thought as his head tilted slightly to the right, as his eyes widened with shock, “[b][i]is..is she always that electric,[/i][/b]” he asked aloud. As soon as he spoke, he noticed a mark on her hand that seemed all too familiar. His eyes quickly darted down to his own hands, his eyes scanned the moving markings on of his own before they darted back over to the woman. Something was telling him to trust these complete strangers, something deep within the core of his being. He thought he heard other voices speaking yet he did not hear the words said as he once again looked back down to his hands. His brain, on the other hand, told him to run. They were too calm around these bodies. They were standing idly by as one woman was assaulting another. What if they killed those people? How did they force that man to punch himself so hard his hand went into his body? These questions started to pile up in his head as his eyes darted from stranger to stranger; his brain reminded him to run. His eyes shifted to the dead nurse. What if he was next and they were trying to get him to let his guard down; and then his brain reminded him to run, and so he did. And so, in one quick motion, Cyrus turned his body around and was off. His first few steps had the wobble of a sailor on dry land for the first time in months, the mental strain of three concurrent perspectives showed their effect. He stumbled and nearly fell over in process yet his muscles remembered how to run, and soon enough he found his stride and was off. His shades remained stationary, however, and through their perspective, he could still see the strangers. Gaining distance from the group now, the sound of his bare feet slapping along the tile floor of the hospital echoed off the wall; and the echo reached the ear of one of his shades. How can he still see them and how was he hearing the echoes grow further in the distance of himself running? He questioned himself one too many times on the subject of his shade, unfortunately. On accident, and without much thought from himself, Cyrus mentally reactivated his abstraction. Immediately, he felt his feet being pulled out from underneath of him as he flew backward, towards the shade. [I][b]*wham*[/b][/i] In an instant, Cyrus was back in front of the group and a shooting pain entered his head once more. His body went from running in the opposite direction to facing the group once more, at that. “[i][b]I’m going crazy, I have to be,[/b][/i]” Cyrus spoke to himself as he fell to one knee, his eyes resting on the strange markings on his hands once more. [/center]