[Too far in to turn back now, even if she truly wished to do so. She can't help but think the front doors would be locked, and that every step deeper into this place seals her in. No going back. She squares her shoulders and continues down the hall, peering at the patient rooms. No place this decrepit could have patients still. No place this empty could be so silent. There should be bugs. Rustling of rodents. If anyone else was here she should hear them.
But. Nothing. Other than that scuff of a shoe, and at that? She draws her gun. She doesn't know what it is. She doesn't even know that there is anything there. But he is not going to take one more step unarmed. Habit has her pulling a light from her pocket and clipping it to her coat, flicking it on. Banishing the shadows. Sometimes it paid to be paranoid.
Fingers tight around her revolver, she continues through the door.]
no subject
But. Nothing. Other than that scuff of a shoe, and at that? She draws her gun. She doesn't know what it is. She doesn't even know that there is anything there. But he is not going to take one more step unarmed. Habit has her pulling a light from her pocket and clipping it to her coat, flicking it on. Banishing the shadows. Sometimes it paid to be paranoid.
Fingers tight around her revolver, she continues through the door.]