Bloodred KerubiIf you're coming from 7th Avenue and walking down Cotton Bluff -- you know, the long road in the impoverish part of town that's long since been deserted by anybody worth knowing-- keep your eyes on the ground. Don't worry you're not going to get mugged, but you won’t find your way there if you don’t. It’s far enough down, not that there are many distinctive visual cues to gauge your way, but somewhere along the way there’s an old pothole. The metal cover for it has been forgotten and once or twice they’ve seen somebody fall in it. I guess that’s one way to get there but I’m sure it’s more harm than it’s worth. From there take a right. You should see an old apartment complex, I don’t know the name of it and you probably won’t either because last time I checked the locus and maggots gnawed a fine dinner on the wooden sign much like all the other complexes you’ve passed on the way, but I promise this one is different. Watch your step and push past the creaking gates heading downhill. There’s this rusted red trashcan and an old oak tree and right between the two is a door. I think it might have said something along the lines of ‘Janitor’ or ‘Storage Closet’ at one point because it sure looks like it belonged to the maintenance crew a decade or two ago. That’s it, go on and open it. And you’re found it: the sloping entrance underground to a well-known place they like to call Faint Vitals.
It's a hospital. One where the syringes sometimes begin to creak and the medicine has a weird taste to it. The sheets on the hospital beds might be a little yellowed from years of body oils, and there might be a bit of dust hanging around, but if you know about this hospital's existence and you know where to find it, rest assured you want to be here. "Faint Vitals, isn't like other hospitals. It's a volunteer run organization, a 'last chance' hospital if you will. When the doctors above ground have told you there's nothing more they can do to help, or when the costs of fighting cancer gets to be too much, we're here to help." His arms spread open welcoming the visitors to look past his smile as he lured them in with the offer of treatment. "It's a risk to be here, everybody knows that, but if you're here there is no other choice. This is your last hope and I'm Blythe. I'll be your nurse for the duration of your stay."
Where's the rest of the story? Well it's all in a word document right now because it's easier to write that way.
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