"We're ready then?" I ask, waiting for everyone to nod before entering. I try to walk as silently as possible, but with Vincent right behind me, I may as well forego the effort; he clings and clangs enough to be mistaken for an entire armory.
And it's that noise that ultimately makes the person standing by the wall turn around, their movements jerky and mechanical, like a broken doll.
"H-ere to see-see the doc-tor? He is rea-lly, very bu-sy, the physician, al-ways so bu-sy-bu-sy."
Even her words are choppy, and her voice sounds distorted and just plain wrong, like a creature merely imitating human speech to lure its prey, making gooseflesh creep up my spine. Still, why not try a peaceful route first?
"I'm actually wondering if you've recently admitted two patients," I answer. "Friends of mine, you see?"
"Ah," she nods—well, more like jerking her head up and down. "Foul-blood-bloods, de-vils?"
"They are tieflings," I answer her again.
But instead of talking to me again, she suddenly comes at me, dropping on all fours and crawling toward me with a speed that I wouldn't have attributed to her; she reminds me more of a cockroach than a human being. Behind me, Vincent braces his longsword, and Shadowheart already has a spell on her lips while Astarion draws back his bowstring, ready to shoot her if she goes through with the attack.
But she doesn't.
Once she's right in front of me, she twists her body upright again, standing face to face with me.
"You your-self-self are aw-fully pale-pale," she says. "Are you s-ick-ick?"
"I'm really just looking for my friends," I try again.
"They are sl-eeping, you cannot s-ee them right n-ow."
"I just want to check in with them, I'm babysitting their daughter, you see?" I smile.
"F-ine," she pushes her arms into her hips, her elbow bending the wrong way.
I bite back a flinch.
"Foll-ow-ow me."
Can you tell that I really, really love the creepy nurses in Act 2?
#BrokenMirrors #DoraWrites
