The camera focuses on the sliding doors, as they part to allow Heinrich von Richtoven passage out onto the concourse. Dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans with a leather jacket pulled on top, he looks a bundle of nerves and clearly hasn’t had time to shower since leaving the James Brown Arena.
He takes a few steps out onto the concourse, and pauses, allowing his head to tilt backwards, a long sigh escaping his lips.
Rubbing the back of his head with one hand, he slowly begins to walk forward. To his side, an elderly looking man stands lighting up a cigarette. Seeing Heinrich’s expression, he speaks out to him.
(Man): Rough in there son?
(Heinrich): Hmm?
The man gestures back at the sliding doors.
(Man): The person you’re with, is it looking bad?
(Heinrich): Oh no, could have been a lot worse, but… it’s not.
He turns to face the elderly man.
(Heinrich): What about yourself?
(Man): Oh I’m just peachy.
He takes a long drag of his cigarette, chuckling as he exhales.
(Man): About to become a grandfather…
He raises up the cigarette again.
(Man): Had to get a handle on my nerves.
Heinrich smiles.
(Heinrich): Oh don’t tempt me…
His attention is distracted by the ringing coming from his pocket.
(Heinrich): Hold on, sorry…
He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing his iPhone.
(Heinrich): Hello.
………
(Heinrich): Nein, he’s under sedation just now, just as a precaution. Doctor’s aren’t too worried it seems though… which is a relief…
………
(Heinrich): From eight until nine…. You sound as tense as I am, what happened? Buff and his boys hang about waiting for you or something?
………
(Heinrich): Ah, well that’s alright. Hey listen, want to grab a drink, Vanessa’s taking the first watch?
………
(Heinrich): Yeah, see you soon.
He exhales, as he slowly slides the iPhone back into his pocket, before throwing a smile at the elderly man as he walks back into the hospital.
(Heinrich): Best hurry up, you wouldn’t want to miss anything!
The scene slowly fades out momentarily, before resuming onto a view of the softly lit hospital room where Hans von Richtoven is currently resting. A few small words emerge in the bottom left of the screen for several seconds, 'The following happened yesterday' before fading out.
Lying on his back, resting, the only sounds that fill the room are the steady bleep of the heart monitor, and the faintest hint of a snore.
The camera moves in, focusing on Hans' upper body, mostly hidden as it is by the sheet covers.
After a minute or so, Hans begins to waken, stirring groggily, his head slowly lolling to the left as his eyelids flutter briefly under the soft lighting.
(Hans): Scheiße…
He groans, as his eyelids retract fully; pupils slowly focusing on the bedside cabinet. Allowing his gaze to drift upwards, he views the large bouquet of flowers in a tall glass vase with a detached sense of curiosity.
Shutting his eyes momentarily, he attempts to shift his position in the bed, only for his mouth to draw taut in a rictus grin as pain radiates out from the back of his bandaged head, and lances down his spine.
He gasps for breath, taken totally aback by the pain; beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead almost instantaneously as he arcs his back, and slumps down with an air of finality.
Unable to restrain himself; what follows is a rapid flurry of German, spoken at great speed through gritted teeth, as he thumps his left hand; balled into a fist, down onto the mattress.
He gulps in several deep breaths, chest heaving up and down in sync as his allows his eyes to roam over the his immediate surroundings, as the camera zooms out, revealing small drips inserted in the back of his hands.
(Hans): What the…?
He gingerly holds up his hands, bringing them closer to his face, eyes slowly drifting over the cables lazily curling up and out towards the drip bags suspended over the bed. His eyes move over back to the bouquet of flowers, and then towards the small LED alarm clock at its side.
A glimmer of comprehension ghosts across his face as he allows his hands to slowly drop down to his sides as he begins to recall what brought him to his current state.
(Hans): Scheiße…
The scene slowly fades to black.
To be continued…
(OOC: Hey everyone, just a head’s up, I’m off on holiday for a week to New York from the 18th of this month, so apologies in advance if anyone expects a response from me that isn’t duly delivered!)
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