Feb. 5th, 2008

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He doesn't know how he ended up there this time, but he's now on a trolley. The lights flash by as he's wheeled down the corridor.

Guppy struggles, but there's something restraining him. Panic ensues as he looks around, but he can't see the faces of those he is being taken by.

He knows he has to get out of here, now.

The trolley stops, and he is lifted roughly onto the bed. A pair of hands reach for a scalpel nearby.

"No!" He pulls himself up and bites at the hand restraint, which thankfully comes off. He grabs at the hand that just made a cut in his side. Then, with no style whatsoever, yanks down and headbutts the doctor. Then frees his other hand and looks up in time to see a semi-decomposed person bearing down on him with defibrilator paddles.

"OH SHIT!" He does the only thing he can think of, drags his legs free and rolls off the bed. The paddles miss him but touch the corner of the bed, sending a current down the metal and through his foot to his knee and the earth, which thankfully is touching the ground whilst his hands are covered in bedsheet.

Painful, but not through the heart. And in the confusion, he escapes.

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