Quoted By:
He can start by answering a question or two, you snarl, biting into the <span class="mu-g">BERRY JAM TOAST!</span> He’s a sawbones, right? Why is he making <span class="mu-i">toast</span> in his lab when there’s a bunch of chumps waiting to be patched up downstairs? Thanks, by the way.
“<span class="mu-i">I WAS downstairs…</span>” Devon hisses as he looks at you in confusion. “<span class="mu-i">But when I saw you coming I just HAD to HUNT YOU DOWN…</span>”
Yea <span class="mu-i">right</span>, you groan with your signature eye roll! He expects you to believe he just <span class="mu-i">snuck</span> up ahead of you? Taking another bite of your toast, you look up to find he’s completely disappeared!
“<span class="mu-i">The SHADOWS and I… are OLD FRIENDS…</span>” Croaks a familiar voice from over your shoulder! “<span class="mu-i">With a CONDITION like mine it PAYS to be IGNORED at times…</span>” Turning to face the doctor behind you, you frown at his dumb little prank–<span class="mu-i">Owl Binder</span> or not, if he sneaks up on you again like that you’re gonna <span class="mu-i">slug</span> him!
“<span class="mu-i">Albino, cupcake.</span>”
Bless you! Anyways, you segue, continuing to gnaw away at your toast, how’s he holding up, anyways? Feels like this shithole got ten times crazier since you sprung Art out! Taking a seat in front of you, the doctor responds with a weary sigh.
“<span class="mu-i">It is…</span>” He wheezes, “<span class="mu-i">Disheartening… watching so many lives slip through our fingers…</span>” Turning his yellow eyes skyward, Devon mournfully shakes his head from side to side. “I always thought I’d grow NUMB to witnessing DEATH, but alas… watching the reaper take his toll chills me to my bones with the same intensity it had when I was a young man… perhaps more so now…” The doctor stares at the ceiling a moment longer before sending a forced smile your way through his surgical mask. “This place, my dear, is NOT LONG for this WORLD…”
Hold on, you frown, what’s that supposed to mean? Aren’t you winning this fight?
“<span class="mu-i">The battles are won, but the cost is too high…</span>” Devon replies with a shrug of his hunched shoulders. “<span class="mu-i">Though you elude death’s jaws time and time again, hundreds of soldiers take your place–even with volunteers, GOOD BOY’S ARMY is dwindling by the day…</span>”
Bullshit, you mutter with a defiant shake of your head! This place is packed to the brim with Rent-A-Cops! Is he seriously suggesting the company’s <span class="mu-i">losing</span>?
“<span class="mu-i">If bodies continue to pile high like they are now, then yes…</span>” Croaks the doctor with disheartening sincerity in his voice. “<span class="mu-i">They ask us to hide the corpses, but it won’t be long before we BLEED OUT…</span>” Just when the atmosphere can’t get any more tense, you spot a faint twinkle in Devon’s bloodshot eye. “<span class="mu-i">Which is why I was DYING to speak with you, Stanley… This way, please…</span>”
Begrudgingly vacating your seat, you follow your host as he hobbles towards the <span class="mu-g">STORAGE CLOSET</span> at the back of his lab. If this is more berry stuff, you swear…
>CONTD.
