A thunking sound permeated through the hallway as a young man dragged himself to the far end of the hallway.
He sighed and coughed along the way, wiping off his sweat with his rumpled shirt. His hair stuck out at odd angles with a few patches shorn inches too short.
He looked down at his chest and put a hand to the left side of his ribcage, wincing at the pain he felt. He continued to trudge on to the room at the far end, head held low and muttering along as if in a trance.
"I... am Morgan Avery... Sole child... Of the Avery Family..." Each breath he took seared a deeper pain in his ribs, each step weighed more than the last. At last, he reached the room.
He then sighed heavily, face flushing into a deep red... And pushed the doors open to the infirmary, bustling with activity as various women carried trays of colorful liquids in little bottles to people sitting in the reception area.
One of the younger women sitting on a bench near the door smiled, tapped his elbow, and asked, "Hey, did Monty hand you your ass?"
Morgan nodded, looking around at the sights in front of him.
"What you lookin' for?" The same girl asked,
"Err... Montgomery told me to look for the stig marks..."
The woman's eyes widened at his statement, and motioned for the girl at the reception desk. "You could've made it so much easier... You're Morgan Avery right? Don't bother, hey! This guy has to get to S-340!"
One of the women in a standard nurse uniform approached them, hands still in gloves after handling a tray of the colorful bottles, and nodded at Morgan before she stalked off.
Morgan took a few steps before looking back and asking, "Can you at least tell me your name? I'd like to thank you properly."
"Don't bother."
"Alright, see you later Miss Bother."
The woman shot him a deadpan gaze as he turned to follow. She smirked and whispered, "Kid's got a brain alright."