Elsie Seger was good and out of her mind.
Due to the effects of the various chemicals she had taken (what were they again?), she could barely feel the pain of what was happening inside her body; could barely feel the death inside of her. Her muscles shook, but she was smiling, thinking only of what she was about to do. She knocked deliberately on the door of the director of the "Continuity" program; the man who had essentially trapped her under various men for weeks on end following her release from quarantine.
No answer. She had started bleeding, and was growing dizzy, though she felt as though it were happening miles away. The only blood she could imagine was -his- at the moment. She started laughing under her breath; it was a dry, convulsive laugh - one automated by the body to further stave off pain.
The door opened.
No reply. Just an icy grey stare and a demented grin, twisted with pain.
"How the hell did you get in here? You were dismissed from the Continuity program on account of the fact you assaulted me."
"You'd love to know that, wouldn't you?" She took a shaky, somewhat hunched step over to the director's desk.
"You look fucked up. What's going on? Please calm down."
Elsie produced a pair of scissors from her boot.
"Oh... please, calm down, Elsie."
"These aren't for you. Not yet..." With a swift, yet somewhat clumsy motion, she cut the cable that plugged the director's phone into the wall, and tossed the scissors aside. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and she doubled over entirely. "This is. This is for you... daddy," she growled.
"Wait, are you okay? What are you..." The words trailed off as he noticed the copious blood and human tissue soaking the floor.
"Isn't it great? It'll look like you killed me instead," Elsie rasped. Her hands were situated between her legs, and her extremities were covered in dark, thick blood.
"What? Come on, you aren't in your right mind now-"
She stared up at him coldly from her compacted position on the floor, holding what was now an amorphous lump of flesh in her hand. Reality finally began to sink in for the director, and he began to feel faint.
"Why...?" He muttered bluntly before going grey and dropping to the floor.
The effects of the drugs took a second wind, and Elsie stood up, laughing that same wickedly dry, strangled laugh. She put her right hand into the half-conscious director's hair, and hauled him up, slamming his face into the corner of the desk repeatedly. He was stunned, quivering, and appeared to be missing teeth. She cocked her head to one side, and threw him onto the ground, proceeding to grind his face into the mess on the floor with her boots. He was now breathing heavily, only able to stare up at Elsie in horror. Her long, platinum blonde hair was streaked with blood.
She seemed to be walking away, but she knelt down... She probably was feeling faint. He heard her throaty voice mumbling something weakly.
"Now..." That was what it sounded like she was saying.
Elsie spun around, brandishing the scissors she had discarded before. She moved to plunge them into the directors neck, but she suddenly went pale, dropping them, and dropping herself right next to the director. She was now staring him directly in the face - he appeared to have completely lost consciousness, which she took some solace in. She grasped the small radio device around her neck and pressed the button. All she could say was "come," but that was enough.
Less than ten minutes had passed before Tabitha arrived with a small cluster of strange men who immediately got to work cleaning the small room.
"Bridgit's outside waiting for you. She insisted on coming, even though I told her it would seem suspicious. Make sure you thank her for her...gesture of concern. Are you okay?"
"And the director? What'd you do?" Tabitha whispered.
"...Morgan Salva? Can you... can you hear me, Morgan Salva?"
The man on the floor stirred and mumbled something. Tabitha knelt down.
"You are... you're injured, yes?"
Tabitha stood back up, perfectly straight, and looked over at one of the men she had with her. "You hear that, J? Please make sure he is taken to a hospital," Tabitha barked sharply, scrawling something on a piece of paper which she shoved into the man's hands. "The address," she said in a somewhat brittle tone, narrowing her eyes. "Of course," J replied, helping Morgan Salva onto his back. "Come along, you'll be fine."