[straight, crisp lettering with sharp edges]

[purgatio]

If any knew a man by the name of Byrne, he died last night.

He somehow turned into a monster halfway through the night, attacking two children before being fought off and brought down.

Comments

[showmeyourwreath]

[There are so many strikeouts, blots and false starts on her first piece that she just gives up and starts a new one.]

Are the children alright? Do you know?

[same writing as above forever]

[purgatio]

From what I saw, they were able to walk away from it.

Re: [same writing as above forever]

[showmeyourwreath]

That's good to hear. I hope they're alright, nobody should have to be here, much less children.

What happens to the people that die here?

[purgatio]

What happens to the people that die here?

A strange question. People die when they are killed.

[ /trolls forever ]

[showmeyourwreath]

_{[Suddenly unsure. Maybe she wasn't being clear enough?]}

I know that, I meant more that the day shifts so quickly and everything is normal, so what happens to those that die the night before? Where do they end up?

[purgatio]

Their bodies are left in the morgue upstairs.

[showmeyourwreath]

The more I _{[strikeout illegible. suddenly little inkblot]} Are all the monsters here patients?

[purgatio]

It's a question none of us can answer. There are some who formulated that monsters were patients--or at least people--well before this illness started striking.

[showmeyourwreath]

Did that man, Byrne, did he change back to himself when he died?

[purgatio]

I don't know. The night ended.

[showmeyourwreath]

Were you there, too? Are you alright?

[purgatio]

As fine as can be expected.

[showmeyourwreath]

That's a little relieving to hear.