Snippet #1705381

Silas Grey

"Zane, 25, now shut up..." the stranger, Zane now, had responded. Silas would have been put off in any other circumstance, but he was too far into the OCD to care. Zane was four letters, pretty good. 25 was not good, and combining the two made it 29, even worse. Splitting that, it was 14 ad 15. 14 was okay, but it divided into 7. 7 was an odd number, but not one of the worst. Thinking up a storm of troubling numbers, he was snapped out of his reverie by a sharp jab to the chest. The poker was an angry sort of man, and made an angry hushing gesture. What the.. why was this man so severe? Not like they were trying to hide. People were still beginning to run. Silas raised his head, glaring back at the man. He noticed him look down at the pocketknife, almost nervously. Fuck. People were starting to think he was crazy. Lovely. Ignorant pricks don't understand what OCD is? I am a goddamn certified genius. Literally. Maybe he wanted to act crazy, maybe he could screw around with these people, if need be. He threw the knife from hand to hand, grinning creepily at the rude man. This is why he didn't like people, they tended to overreact and act like asses. Zane suddenly took off running towards the deaf woman, urging her to hurry to the relative safety of the quarters.

Silas noticed his shaking slow down, probably the meds taking effect... again. He would need to start rationing them a bit stricter, he was only supposed to take one every 12 hours, not every couple minutes. He flipped his knife around a couple time, switching the more hacking blade for something a bit sharper on the tip rather than the edge. He may be some neurotic shut in, but he could and would give all he got to those blue skinned monsters. Looking down the hallway, he noticed something disturbing. The first of the blue humanoids was sniffing about behind them..