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They weren't even trying to get out of here. To Horace, that seemed the only answer. He would have started swimming back if he could hold himself afloat for any length of time. He grunted as the others dismissed him and decided to go with the general consensus. After all, he'd been running around for a while and was getting pretty damn tired.

He shrugged at the others and glared as he went to find a room somewhere in the hospital. It would beat sleeping on the floor, and maybe the water in here didn't taste terrible, as it did on most everywhere else.

He got to fill his two water bottles first and then found a small room with a locking door. He dropped his bag on to the ground and felt a heavy relief as the hefty bowling ball landed on the floor. He didn't know yet, but he figured he'd find a use for it eventually.

One thing he learned to do really well in prison was sleep. There was a lot of time for it, and not a lot else to do. After a while you learned to wake up for the things that matter. Though back there he never got any guff from anyone, and he wasn't expecting to get any here.

He felt a little weird on the hospital cot, but he slumped back with his tonfa still in hand and drifted off to sleep within a matter of seconds. Without a thought of the other patrons of the long abandoned hospital.
I eat alone in a desert with skulls for my pets,
I rate the days 1 to 10 with lead cigarettes.


Jeremy Ressler
Catherine Cowie
Haaziq Muhammad Sayf
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Cold Cash and Colder Hearts (CONTENT WARNING) · The Hospital