WolfStar12
Self-Loathing Werewolf
It was 7 AM on a crisp, chill morning, about 50 minutes into their daily checkup, but Dr. Moore was still dead tired, the aftertaste of bitter coffee still loomed in her mouth. She walked throughout the facility either furiously scribbling observations on her clipboard or surveilling the rows of containment cells on each side of her. Octavia was a tall and skinny woman with long, straight, red hair, rounded glasses that always slid off her nose, a stern no-nonsense face created by stress, and she always had at least one glove on. To her Higher Ups, she was the perfect example of a doctor. Still even the perfect doctor could get tired.
It certainly wasn't the task, god no. To the majority of the populace, the practices in GreenGlen seemed like something out of a nightmare. Performing complex surgeries in long hours was one thing, but spending the day surrounded by all manner of creatures Mother Nature wouldn't dare lay her eye on? You'd be better off catching the virus. No, it was the monotony of it all. Dr. Octavia had been working with the company almost during its inception, arriving at every single work day since her hiring, desensitized to everything she had seen around her, but somehow the buzzing of the fluorescent lights got more to her than the agonized screeching. She straightened herself, stifling a yawn. No matter if she was tired, even if a small part of her, a very small part mind you, wanted to go back to sleep, she still thought it best to set a good example to the other staff members. After all, we couldn't have the other doctors believing they could lounge around on the job, making up for lost sleeping time, now could we?
Octavia stopped and looked at her and ticking watch on her ungloved hand and squinted, before scanning the rest of the room. Her eyes carefully wandered the glass cells, observing all that was inside it. A large reptilian patient, a Type A, scratched at the glass, yelling obscenities at her. One simply wept, a small thundercloud formed over her head as she whimpered something about her kids, while another sat motionless on their sleeping cot, staring at the wall to their left. Sector F has already been interviewed. Octavia noted, turning back to her clipboard. She tucked her pencil under the clip, and continued walking.
It certainly wasn't the task, god no. To the majority of the populace, the practices in GreenGlen seemed like something out of a nightmare. Performing complex surgeries in long hours was one thing, but spending the day surrounded by all manner of creatures Mother Nature wouldn't dare lay her eye on? You'd be better off catching the virus. No, it was the monotony of it all. Dr. Octavia had been working with the company almost during its inception, arriving at every single work day since her hiring, desensitized to everything she had seen around her, but somehow the buzzing of the fluorescent lights got more to her than the agonized screeching. She straightened herself, stifling a yawn. No matter if she was tired, even if a small part of her, a very small part mind you, wanted to go back to sleep, she still thought it best to set a good example to the other staff members. After all, we couldn't have the other doctors believing they could lounge around on the job, making up for lost sleeping time, now could we?
Octavia stopped and looked at her and ticking watch on her ungloved hand and squinted, before scanning the rest of the room. Her eyes carefully wandered the glass cells, observing all that was inside it. A large reptilian patient, a Type A, scratched at the glass, yelling obscenities at her. One simply wept, a small thundercloud formed over her head as she whimpered something about her kids, while another sat motionless on their sleeping cot, staring at the wall to their left. Sector F has already been interviewed. Octavia noted, turning back to her clipboard. She tucked her pencil under the clip, and continued walking.