11 - Anticipation

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Flug looked at the ground, opening the door in front of him. Being lucky for once, he didn't need to look up to align the key with the lock, just making a good guess.

Once the door flung open, he quickly breathed out, harshly stepping in, immediately turning around to close the door behind him. He noticed the floor being a differing color from what he remembered, so he finally looked up, seeing that all the walls around the door are different.

He stepped back, his hands clenched into fists and placed near his chest, completely shocked. He tried to remind himself of Black Hat's room's number, also revisiting what number he saw on the door before stepping in. From his memory, everything aligned. And he surely did trust his memory, sometimes even too much.

Maybe this was that exact time?

He hugged himself slightly, still extremely confused but less shocked out of his mind. He didn't have courage to move yet though.

"Is something troubling you, Doctor?" A voice behind him said, clearly holding back something. Probably laughter, but it seemed like it could be satisfaction or a proud feeling too...

"Wha- How...?" Flug mumbled, realizing the one standing behind him is definitely Black Hat.

"Since I can't quite grasp what you're talking about, I will need you to make yourself clearer, Dear." His amused grin was heard through all of his words, making it painfully clear he was lying.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, totally forgetting about the nickname, a little irritated at such an obvious mocking. He better be original if he wanted to affect the bag-headed man!

"You know exactl-" He stopped, finally turning around, his past shock fully returning. "What?"

He quickly picked up that the whole room changed. It looked better than his! Was this some cruel joke that his boss and his patient both planned?

"How did you even manage this?!" His stuttering was long gone, replaced by the never ending surprised intonation. The demon began laughing once again, now bending in his waist.

Flug huffed angrily, deciding to finally move, heading to the wood-looking closet. He passed by Black Hat on his way there, feeling his steady breathing. That jerk didn't even lose any breath after such a laughter!

Once the Doctor got to his destination, he looked up at the tall piece of furniture, admiring what seemed to be quality dark oak and a ruby-colored piece of glass in the door. Fascinated by a pleasing color palette and still thrown off because of this surprise, he reached out to the closet itself, wanting to touch it, still not really believing this is all real.

And what do you know, that piece of furniture reached out for him too.

Two slippery, tentacle-like outgrowths gripped Flug's hand tightly, a sharp-teethed mouth forming in the place where the arm was originally going to land. Green saliva began dripping from the opened cavity. The scientist squealed something out, immediately beginning to struggle, gripping his own grasped hand, pulling it into the opposite direction.

But the appendages didn't seem to have a harmful intent other than scaring the Doctor: soon enough, they let the grabbed hand go, retracting back into the side of the closet, the mouth closing after them being gone. Flug, extremely scared for his life and panicked, fell down to the floor, landing onto his butt. He began breathing heavily, happy to see his hand in it's place.

He couldn't be at peace for long though: in a couple of short seconds, he turned around because he heard his patient burst into evil laughter once again. This time it was a much shorter gesture of him finding the whole situation hilarious.

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