Chapter Text
Stamp. Photo. Register. Repeat.
It was a rather simple process, easy to memorize, and easy to get lost in. The sheer amount of animals that would come in every shift made faces blur together near its end, though no amount of foggy vision or headaches would remove the signature hum that came from an anomaly, almost reaching out to resonate to the matching hum within Intern.
Sometimes, Secretary liked to joke that they were better at identifying anomalies than himself with his however-many-years of experience, though Intern wasn’t entirely sure if he was actually joking or not since the dog never smiled.
They cracked their neck, achey and sore from all of the leaning over papers they had done this shift. Typically, they preferred to work with the patients, but Secretary wasn’t here today, so they were forced to work the front desk alone.
As of now, nobody was ringing the bell nor waiting in the lobby, impatiently tapping their feet or nagging them. It was quiet, actually, except for the low chatter of visitors in the rooms and the shuffling of the Nurse and Psychologist finishing up the last few patients.
It was…unusual, actually. The shift was almost over, and it had passed with not so much as a mimic or even a wall guy trying to attack.
The door to the front office opened, and the Nurse entered, exhaustion etched into the soft pink furs of her face.
“Rough day?” they asked, looking up at her from the chair they were sat in.
She only huffed out a laugh, collapsing into the chair of the other check-in window. Intern could hear her heart beating, quick and hard, almost as though she had just been running. Or stressed. They didn’t want to focus on that.
“If it was rough for me, I can’t even imagine how it was for you. Alone for both check-in windows?” She dragged a paw down her face, taking her cap off with it. “I’m surprised you didn’t come back and ask for help.” Her tone was light, jovial. They decided to try and match it, just to boost her mood, maybe.
They smiled sheepishly before turning back to the check-in window. “Psychologist steals all of the coffee.” And scares off the patients, too, they thought. His customer service was lacking, especially considering the field he supposedly specialized in.
She laughed, an actual one, this time, before looking at Intern. Then, she stood up and walked over to them, leaning over their side to look at the paper in front of them.
NEW HIRE, was written on top, and the picture of a black cat with stark yellow eyes in a sleek black suit was printed right below. Clerk was the desired position.
Nurse rested her paw on the paper before grabbing it, walking back behind Intern and resting her hips on the camera dashboard. Their eyes followed, ears perking up with an interest they did not like before they forced themself to turn back to the empty window.
“Assuming this guy never showed up?”
They shook their head, ears twitching backwards again as they heard her flipping through the applicant’s packet. She just clicked her tongue in disapproval, and the soft woosh of the papers on the dashboard told them that she had set them down.
“People these days, always applying but never following through. Do people just…not have any good left in their hearts?”
They heard her get up and start walking behind them, though they didn’t dare to look.
“I mean, I started this job before anomalies were even a thing, but I stayed! So what if I might get hurt?”
Something was set down on the coffee table, probably her hat.
“Ugh…I can’t believe this is what the world is coming to, now. Just a whole bunch of people unwilling to help each other even if it means we’ll all get better.”
Intern decided to stay silent, instead electing to reorganize the pens and neaten up the stack of discarded sticker paper that they had left on the desk during the day from the patient/visitor badges.
It was silent throughout their whole process, and when they finished and found nothing else to do, they turned back to the Nurse.
Her face was scrunched up in a kind of drowsy sadness, eyes gazing downward at the floor, looking but not really seeing the familiar cement that had bore the weight of the hospital’s years. Her heart beat had slowed, and thankfully, so did the intrusive thoughts that Intern had been trying to suppress.
…
They were hungry.
…
…
She was distracted. When did Intern get so close to her? When had they even stood up? And Psychologist…wait, Psychologist?
They were snapped out of their trance as a gunshot rang out from the patient wing. Both them and the Nurse were immediately out the door, running as fast as they could towards the noise.
Internally, they cursed, because of course it was Room 5.
The lights were off, and they could see the glint of blood splattering the glass part of the door. The Psychologist was already there, knocking on the door and trying to force his way in, his voice panicked.
Intern stopped close behind the Psychologist, while the Nurse ran towards the fire extinguisher, presumably to break the lock open. Smart woman.
She returned, fire extinguisher in hand, shoving the Psychologist out of the way. However, before she could even lift it, the handle twisted, and the door opened to reveal a disturbingly clean black cat in a suit, with nothing out of place save for a small blood splatter on their hand and the shiny, smoking gun held within it.
The next thing out of place was the gun’s immediate redirection towards Intern’s face, claw clearly on the trigger ready to shoot.