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Message: <blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 5458712" data-attributes="member: 3285">The Windthrope Legacy: Conclusion (AKA Caprice Isn't Okay)Caprice lay face down on some sort of bed. His head was held up by a firm, circular cushion of some kind, while his hands were level with his head, restrained by medical restraints. Indeed, wrists, ankles and forehead were all held by Velcro restraints, ensuring that he did not move from their current position.Caprice was laying on something soft. His eyes were closed. A faint smell of disinfectant lingered in the air and he could hear a soft humming sound…perhaps of a fan. Beneath him, Caprice could feel the crispness of fresh sheets. He was comfortably warm.He opened his eyes. Darkness. Total darkness.There was the rattle of a trolley moving closer, a slight change in air pressure and the noise of a door being opened.“Good morning,” came a female voice with a pleasant British accent.  She sounded youthful, yet professional. There was a smell of perfume, which was quickly overpowered by the smell of burnt toast.“Have some breakfast,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s just the usual, orange juice and toast. You can’t have anything more substantial until the doctor gives you the once over.”He heard the sound of furniture moving – perhaps a small table, and the squeaking of metal underneath his face. Caprice flinched as something plastic was pushed into his mouth, past his dry lips – a straw? Tentatively taking a sip, he felt the sweet taste of orange juice in his mouth.The nurse went round to the other patients in the room.  Caprice gathered it was the crew.  Given their predicament he guessed none of them were his fellow agents. "What…happened?" he croaked.  He remembered tentacles, and screaming, and free falling.  The glass of his helmet shattered, and hungry mouths…"You've undergone eye surgery—" The noise of a door opening cut her off in midsentence.There was another change in air pressure and Caprice heard a door open and close. A male voice, with a distinct far eastern accent could be heard.“Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a comfortable night.”The man seemed to shift about the room as his voice grows and diminished in volume as he moved around. He appeared to be stopping at each bed and picking up something, making “hmmm, yes,” noises –studying medical charts.“Yes, all quite good. Each of your eye procedures has gone very well,” the man said, somewhat smugly. “Now, you need to rest for another twenty-four hours. I’m afraid we can’t have you moving around as it may cause complications, hence the restraints. Yes, face down and no exposure to light. We don’t want any of that! None of you would like to have any disastrous complications, eh?! Don’t want anybody going blind!”"What happened?" Caprice asked again.“You have each had your eyes rebuilt.  I then replaced the emptied eye cavity with a gas bubble. Since gas rises and the macula and retina are at the back of the eye, you must remain face down in order for the gas bubble to apply pressure to the area in need of healing. And so, allow the macula or retina to re-bond to the eye wall and a new vitreous to replace the gas bubble. Although vitrectomy has a strong, successful track record in improving vision, the recovery from it is often far more challenging as patients must put up with the discomfort of being held in a face-down, post-operative position for a further twenty four hours. As I said, we don’t want you going blind!”After a cursory examination of each of the patients, the doctor pronounced that he was happy with everyone’s progress. "The nurse shall return shortly, should you require anything further."Caprice's thoughts roiled.  What happened?  He caught the British accent, but he didn't recognize the other one.  They were over the Pacific Ocean, right? What was he doing in a hospital? And what in God's name had happened to his eyes?A terrible female scream snapped him out of his dark thoughts. It was from somewhere close to, yet outside the room, followed by the sound of someone running. It was followed by a strange, high-pitched, twittering sound that seemed to appear from nowhere. Caprice gasped.  He knew that sound.  It was the thing…the thing in the air that was trying to – no had succeeded in – eating his eyes.More screaming. A male voice shouted something in a foreign tongue, and more footsteps. It was followed by a sucking noise that rose in volume. Then silence.</blockquote>

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