If there's one complaint I had about working in Greater Mockbarrow Medical Centre it would be that you were never more than five feet from some kind of abomination. The area's got a long history of things just appearing from around empty corners, somehow already sporting more blood than just one human body can contain.
It was bad enough having to walk about with a knife and pocket siren on me at all times just in case something unnatural walked up to me. That only happened three times and two of those were the same creature trying to peel a strip of my skin off. They collect it you see, it's like a mix between currency and a display of status that nobody wants any part of.
The third time it was a completely different creature that looked like the unholy result of a spider, a fish and a cactus - all gaping gills and projectile spines and lightning quick reflexes that managed to tear a good portion of skin off before I got it back in kind. Bloody pests they all are.
It's worse when you're working the night shift on one of the terminal wards and all you can hear in the distance is the shuffle of far too many legs and the faint whimpers of pain from patients who shouldn't be able to feel anything at their late stage in life. Security refuses to do more than herd them into the courtyards, locking the doors as they go.
It doesn't stop them but it does delay them enough for the rest of us staff to lock the drug cabinets and hide.
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