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Story Hour
Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4360132" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Nemo Solus Sapit: Part 6 – The Showers</strong></p><p></p><p>Patients undressed in the bare-bones locker area. Hector handed Guppy a bar of soap and towel.</p><p></p><p>“You go in last because you're special.” He caught Guppy’s look. “It's not a Mexican prison. Everybody here minds their own business. State law says we keep you boys clean. And I'm a stickler for the law. Now come on. If you go downtown, you gotta dance.” </p><p></p><p>The shower, like everything else in the Van Dyson Center, was regulated in shifts so that various groupings of patients each got their turn. </p><p></p><p>Hector checked his watch. “That's five minutes, group one. Alright, boys, nice and easy.”</p><p></p><p>The first group of bathers filed out, dripping wet, past Guppy, in all shapes and sizes. Each had their own scars and tattoos, like maps of troubled souls: names of women, places, religious quotes. Burn scars, cuts, needle marks. They began to towel off as Guppy, slowly and painfully self-conscious, undressed in the corner. A moment later Hector nodded for him to go in.</p><p></p><p>Guppy hung his head under the spray and closed his eyes, trying to shut it all out. The sounds of the Van Dyson Center slowly faded out until all he heard was his own ragged breathing. </p><p></p><p>Looking down at the water dripping into the drain, Guppy caught sight of a hole in the tile where a busted water pipe poked out. Clearly at some point there was a handle there, but now it was just a hole with a busted pipe.</p><p></p><p>As he looked closer, a perfectly formed globule of blood emerged from the pipe, following by a gurgling sound that seemed to come from deep in the bowels of the plumbing system.</p><p></p><p>The blood lingered tentatively, as if unfamiliar with the laws of gravity, before tracing an upward line along the tile. </p><p></p><p>The gurgling grew louder, closer, and then more blood flowed from the hole and spread up the wall. </p><p></p><p>Guppy looked away, disturbed. There was no one else in the showers. </p><p></p><p>When he looked down again, the blood streaming from the pipe had formed five letters written in blood. N-O-T-A-L.</p><p></p><p>Shaking, nauseous, Guppy focused on his feet and the drain, too scared to look back up.</p><p></p><p>Blood dripped by his ankle. Suddenly, a shooting pain laced his arm. </p><p></p><p>“What the hell…?” asked Guppy. </p><p></p><p>Sharp slashes appeared on Guppy’s skin, like some invisible knife was slicing his arm.</p><p></p><p>There was a shout behind him. “What did you do?”</p><p></p><p>Orderlies rushed in to haul him away. </p><p></p><p>Hector grabbed Guppy’s arm and held it up. “What the hell did you do to yourself?!”</p><p></p><p>Perfectly carved into Guppy’s arm, the scar read: "NOT ALONE."</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4360132, member: 3285"] [b]Nemo Solus Sapit: Part 6 – The Showers[/b] Patients undressed in the bare-bones locker area. Hector handed Guppy a bar of soap and towel. “You go in last because you're special.” He caught Guppy’s look. “It's not a Mexican prison. Everybody here minds their own business. State law says we keep you boys clean. And I'm a stickler for the law. Now come on. If you go downtown, you gotta dance.” The shower, like everything else in the Van Dyson Center, was regulated in shifts so that various groupings of patients each got their turn. Hector checked his watch. “That's five minutes, group one. Alright, boys, nice and easy.” The first group of bathers filed out, dripping wet, past Guppy, in all shapes and sizes. Each had their own scars and tattoos, like maps of troubled souls: names of women, places, religious quotes. Burn scars, cuts, needle marks. They began to towel off as Guppy, slowly and painfully self-conscious, undressed in the corner. A moment later Hector nodded for him to go in. Guppy hung his head under the spray and closed his eyes, trying to shut it all out. The sounds of the Van Dyson Center slowly faded out until all he heard was his own ragged breathing. Looking down at the water dripping into the drain, Guppy caught sight of a hole in the tile where a busted water pipe poked out. Clearly at some point there was a handle there, but now it was just a hole with a busted pipe. As he looked closer, a perfectly formed globule of blood emerged from the pipe, following by a gurgling sound that seemed to come from deep in the bowels of the plumbing system. The blood lingered tentatively, as if unfamiliar with the laws of gravity, before tracing an upward line along the tile. The gurgling grew louder, closer, and then more blood flowed from the hole and spread up the wall. Guppy looked away, disturbed. There was no one else in the showers. When he looked down again, the blood streaming from the pipe had formed five letters written in blood. N-O-T-A-L. Shaking, nauseous, Guppy focused on his feet and the drain, too scared to look back up. Blood dripped by his ankle. Suddenly, a shooting pain laced his arm. “What the hell…?” asked Guppy. Sharp slashes appeared on Guppy’s skin, like some invisible knife was slicing his arm. There was a shout behind him. “What did you do?” Orderlies rushed in to haul him away. Hector grabbed Guppy’s arm and held it up. “What the hell did you do to yourself?!” Perfectly carved into Guppy’s arm, the scar read: "NOT ALONE." [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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