Would It Matter?
Have a wonderful day
Hannah walked through the hallway of Gotham General in her nurse outfit. She was on her way down into the basement where Jon Crane kept his worst patients. Once in the elevator she came face to face with Jon.
"Hannah." his soft sensual voice flooded her ears she offered a slight smile.
"Jon." she bowed her head slightly to make her hair fall down into her face to avoid as much eye contact as she could.
"Heading down for medication time?" He asked her as she nodded a simple yes fell from her lips.
He had four patients that Hannah had done some surgical work on that she needed to check up on. She glanced at the buttons of the elevator as the number dropped down until it said BF3 on it. She stepped off the elevator along with him.
"Did you hear about Don Castro being killed the other night?" Jon asked as they walked through the hallway stopping in front of his office.
"Yes, I did. I'm glad he's dead actually, I feel no remorse for criminals who are murdered." Hannah spoke coldly; Jon's brow raised in interest hearing her say this.
"Have a wonderful day, Hannah." He spoke softly walking into his office.
Hannah wondered why he sounded so different after she had said that about Don Castro. She walked down to each patients room checking their wounds and re-bandaging them up, as she was walking back towards the elevator, she saw from a reflection a man with a burlap sack around his head, in one of the patients rooms.
She swung the door open walking in getting a face full of a mist she inhaled sharply and rubbed her eyes feeling light headed right away, she heard voices as she looked up she saw nothing but clowns, snakes, and spiders.
"NO!" She screamed backing out of the room falling onto the floor.
Jon removed his mask quickly running over to Hannah he pulled her up and locked her up into his office; laying her down he injected the antidote into her blood stream watching her pass out. He felt bad looking down at her but now he knew she'd be suspicious and he had to watch her closely to make sure she kept her distance or he'd have to do away with her.
As she slept she had strange dreams about the man with the sack over his face.
"Hannah." his soft sensual voice flooded her ears she offered a slight smile.
"Jon." she bowed her head slightly to make her hair fall down into her face to avoid as much eye contact as she could.
"Heading down for medication time?" He asked her as she nodded a simple yes fell from her lips.
He had four patients that Hannah had done some surgical work on that she needed to check up on. She glanced at the buttons of the elevator as the number dropped down until it said BF3 on it. She stepped off the elevator along with him.
"Did you hear about Don Castro being killed the other night?" Jon asked as they walked through the hallway stopping in front of his office.
"Yes, I did. I'm glad he's dead actually, I feel no remorse for criminals who are murdered." Hannah spoke coldly; Jon's brow raised in interest hearing her say this.
"Have a wonderful day, Hannah." He spoke softly walking into his office.
Hannah wondered why he sounded so different after she had said that about Don Castro. She walked down to each patients room checking their wounds and re-bandaging them up, as she was walking back towards the elevator, she saw from a reflection a man with a burlap sack around his head, in one of the patients rooms.
She swung the door open walking in getting a face full of a mist she inhaled sharply and rubbed her eyes feeling light headed right away, she heard voices as she looked up she saw nothing but clowns, snakes, and spiders.
"NO!" She screamed backing out of the room falling onto the floor.
Jon removed his mask quickly running over to Hannah he pulled her up and locked her up into his office; laying her down he injected the antidote into her blood stream watching her pass out. He felt bad looking down at her but now he knew she'd be suspicious and he had to watch her closely to make sure she kept her distance or he'd have to do away with her.
As she slept she had strange dreams about the man with the sack over his face.