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The girl who dreams on the back of a giant space turtle.
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Back in the asylum once again.

((Isabel Ramirez continued from Megalomania))

The intensive care wards were gloomy, and dim. Only some of the pale moonlight making its way through the thick windows dotted around the hallways.

The day had been uneventful travel between areas, not a single soul encountered along the way, presumably because nobody wanted to come near her. Lily stayed close, but didn't say nearly anything at all throughout the entire day. Only paltry single or double word answers to her various questions and attempts to break the ice. She thought that maybe Lily would eventually open up, given that she agreed to the whole plan in the first place and actually stuck around when she could have easily run away. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case, and Isabel was left feeling even more isolated than she felt before.

Eventually, the infrequent showers of the day ruined the bandages she had wrapped around her face, and even though she no longer needed them, she decided that the two of them needed to seek shelter.

So here they were, haunting the festering hallways of the asylum once again. They came to a corner, around which would eventually lead to the place where she had killed Conrad. Returning to the scene of the crime, as it were.

Scanning the hallway around the corner for threats, Isabel gave an all clear signal to Lily before advancing further down the hallway, glancing in room after room that they passed, making sure that nobody could potentially get the drop on them.

Then, a sound came from one of the rooms further ahead. Something hitting the floor. In a normal hospital, a sound like that wouldn't be heard over the sounds of chattering and the clacking of keyboards, but in the dead hallways of the asylum, a sound like that was all too deafening.

Approaching the doorway that the sound had come out of, Isabel signaled for Lily to stop and wait before readying her sword. More competition to eliminate. Preferably quickly, and quietly. No need to draw things out, just dispose of them and move along. The door handle turned slowly, before Isabel creaked the door open and came face to face with the last person she wanted to see again.


An awkward silence and stunned glances were shared between the two of them, before Isabel quickly shut the door behind her and pressed her back up against it.

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Flowers Hurt · Intensive Care Wards