![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The room's proper name--the one taped under one of Stealth's countless security monitors--was Cell Nine.
Cell Nine was in the basement of the Hart Building, twelve feet on each side, all steel bars lined with heavy chain link fencing both inside and out. When it was done, every window on every floor was boarded up, inside and out. All the doors were chained shut, including the fire door on the roof, and all the locks welded shut. The only entrance was the front door on 3rd Street, and it had four padlocks on it. Two were keyed, two had combinations, and two guards stood there at all times. Each of them had only one key and one combination.
Even the guards didn't know what was in the Cellar, rumors just called it The Thing. All they knew was that they had strict orders. If the Thing - whatever it was - tried to get out of the building, they weren't supposed to hesitate or ask questions. They were just supposed to shoot until they were out of ammunition.
( Visiting a monster )
[Greatly adapted from Chapter Three of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Trigger warning for references to previous attempts at suicide. Previous post and Next Post]
Cell Nine was in the basement of the Hart Building, twelve feet on each side, all steel bars lined with heavy chain link fencing both inside and out. When it was done, every window on every floor was boarded up, inside and out. All the doors were chained shut, including the fire door on the roof, and all the locks welded shut. The only entrance was the front door on 3rd Street, and it had four padlocks on it. Two were keyed, two had combinations, and two guards stood there at all times. Each of them had only one key and one combination.
Even the guards didn't know what was in the Cellar, rumors just called it The Thing. All they knew was that they had strict orders. If the Thing - whatever it was - tried to get out of the building, they weren't supposed to hesitate or ask questions. They were just supposed to shoot until they were out of ammunition.
( Visiting a monster )
[Greatly adapted from Chapter Three of Ex-Communication by Peter Clines. NFI, NFB, OOC is love. Trigger warning for references to previous attempts at suicide. Previous post and Next Post]
