A decision.

Not to waste time, to fulfill our mission quickly.

some X-rays, a few drips and copies of 'woundcare monthly' perhaps.

and then away to home.

and also to move as silently as we could...
 
 

We approach the end of the 'corridor of doom'

when it begins again, in earnest.

obscure rushes of air,

unintelligable sounds,

a deep rumbling screeching

and mental visions of something bad...

once more we stop in our tracks,

listening intensely and glancing wild-eyed.

our panic rose again and we conferred once more

attempting to pinpoint the location of our nemesis.
 
 

suddenly, the sounds rose higher

and moved towards us at an alarming rate.

fight or flight reaction.

we were not normally spooked,

being accustomed to wandering in darkened doomy places

but this was different.

we probably said a few hurried words to the effect of

'let's get the fuck out of here'

or

'terrible black winged red eyed doom creature'

or

'aag it's coming for us'

or

'brothers the mists are rising... then we must go!'

or

or

...

we ran