"Want me to go and find you? Have you lost your mind?" The uneven handwriting on the back of the medical history made him feel a certain kind of way. He was currently on the first floor of the hospital, standing in the middle of the corridor.
Even though the drafts had stopped, the doors that were left half-ajar moved back and forth, creaking noisily. Showers of dust fell from the old ceiling, and there was occasionally the sound of paper brushing against the ground filtering into his ears. Standing alone in that situation after midnight, it would be a lie to say that one was not afraid.
Scissors held the pair of scissors in his hand tightly, and he forced himself to appear as unfazed as he could be. "When did someone place this on my back?"
Turning back, Scissors studied the few sickrooms that he had just passed. "The person who was behind this prank should be from inside one of the rooms that I've just walked past."
