Krafft's Notes on Anomalies

Kraft and Yvonne returned to the clinic. Their hair was half-dried when they walked in. From the looks of it, they looked like they had skipped work to take students out for a camping trip and accidentally slipped into a mountain stream, so they packed their things in a hurry and returned early.

He declined the kindness of others to help carry the package, told him that he wanted a midnight snack and a fire, and quickly disappeared up the stairs.

Kupp, who rushed after hearing the news, only heard the sound of the door closing.

The servant and assistant shrugged, put down the instruments he was sterilizing, washed his hands and walked towards the kitchen, asking the chef who was also working overtime to prepare two more hot soups and add more cinnamon powder.

After finishing their work, everyone shared food at the table while waiting for the professor to come back after finishing the work to explain their whereabouts and listen to feedback on recent work.

As the tight-lipped Yvonne began to pour the third bowl of soup, Coop realized that something might be different tonight.

If there is one person who is best suited to leave the table at this time, it is him.

So the professor's assistant put down the bowl, got up and left. He walked on the newly repaired floor to the door and found that the light inside was still on.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, but stopped a few inches away from the door panel. The room was very quiet, there was no sign of washing or moving around, not even the sound of the brass pen tip tapping on the table through the paper.

He wasn't sure when he became so keen. It might be that he was forced to practice the technique repeatedly during the medical work for several days, which made his ears reflexively distinguish the strength of the sound.

Or something lurking beneath the surface consciousness is causing trouble. For example, after finishing the cleaning work and being the last one to leave the lights-out ward, he found that the main door was not closed tightly, and the air flow sprayed through the creaking door cracks and sprayed on the shaky candlelight of the lantern.

There is nothing behind that door, or it may be the breath of a whole dark and moist world passing by, which makes people instinctively stay away, and then they shrink for no reason the second before doubt.

He retracted his hand to protect the lamp flame. The temperature in his palm was close to burning pain, but he felt safe.

The people inside were probably too tired and fell asleep without turning off the lights. This is relatively rare, but it makes sense. After all, looking at this body, you can tell that it has not been an easy journey.

This is a good thing to find out to avoid waking up someone who has fallen asleep and put off a decision until tomorrow.

But he still stood at the door for a while, waiting for the next sound - if there was one.

This is what I learned during auscultation. Not every sound will appear exactly at the moment you press the receiver. Sometimes you have to wait for several cycles.

He did hear it, a very low sound, even weaker than the breathing and heartbeat in his chest.

Through door panels, loose sound-absorbing materials, and special containers, the crisp original color is still retained. It was the sound of a hard object hitting the glass, rhythmically, one after another.

Because it's so regular, it's easy to ignore it and filter it out as part of the background, but if you listen closely you can really tell it's coming from within the room.

It reminded him of a beach at high tide, with small creatures activated by moisture opening and closing their hard shells, creating an endless rhythm.

And the "tide" is still rising. It is the encroachment of another environment on the familiar environment. It rises like the tide and spreads like the mist. It fills the room with no form or texture, and is filled with ripples.

Coop felt that the surroundings were a little unfamiliar. He had obviously not moved yet. He was standing in a place he had walked many times. The patched floor under his feet was something he had done, but this place had become some kind of waterfront. He was immersed in the invisible tide. , looking at things through a layer of transparent liquid, everything is subtly different.

The crisp knocking sound became more urgent, as if celebrating the arrival of the tide.

Coop took a deep breath and started to back away, then faster and faster, turned around and walked quickly downstairs, interrupting Yvonne's eating, and brought her to the door.

Something happened, but he needed another person to confirm it.

The answer was yes. Yvonne suddenly covered her ears, then let go and looked around, as if something was shouting loudly in her ears without warning, and then quickly disappeared.

It seemed that Kraft was destined to be unable to sleep any longer.

"Mr. Craft, are you in there?" He slapped the door panel hard, and the banging sound echoed throughout the corridor.

In response to the knock on the door, there was a crisp sound like a clock. A second sound was added to the previous one. Another sound source was activated, tapping the glass at different frequencies, like two stirring rods going back and forth in the glass container. Swing it and hit the inside wall.

"No, no." Coop reached to his left waist and realized that the hammer was not on him. It was very inappropriate to carry a weapon with him at work these days. No matter how dull the patient was, he would not think it was a medical device.

But there's something better than a hammer. "Yvonne, we have to get in."

Without him saying anything, Yvonne had already pressed her hand on the door, and the sour wood fiber deformation sound escaped from it.

Kupp quickly corrected her method of force: "Don't force in the middle, push the door lock side."

As the girl adjusted her posture and turned sideways to exert more force on the door, the wooden board began to move inward, and a sound like tearing paper came from the door frame, accompanied by the sound of small metal fasteners falling off and rolling.

When the deformation reached a certain level, the door shaft suddenly bent, and half of the wooden door frame was torn from the wall. Yvonne pushed the fallen door uncontrollably, stumbled forward a few steps, and fell down with it. on the ground.

[It’s broken, this door seems to open from the outside]

Now was not the time to dwell on this small mistake. Coop immediately scanned the entire room and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the figure sitting at the table with his back to the two of them.

The noise they made when they pushed the door in made the figure react a little, tilting his head slightly, as if it was a conditioned reflex to detect changes in the outside world in a dream, and then nothing happened.

"Mr. Craft?" the attendant called again, but the man did not respond to the name. His throat felt a little itchy, a faint sour smell surged throughout his nasopharynx, and there was also some unspeakable strange smell. The invisible tide that invaded this space touched his taste buds and sense of smell.

And the source of the "tide" is sitting at the table. There is a box for storing dangerous reagents on the table, which has been locked, and the crisp tapping sound comes from it.

He did not rush to put his hand on the shoulder of the person he suspected to be in the dream, which would probably cause an overreaction, especially if it was a person whose level was much higher than his own, which would be more troublesome.

Instead, he carefully walked around to the front.

Judging from the appearance, the man was just too tired. He had not yet taken off his half-dry clothes. He had stored something important and not suitable for temporary processing in the place where it should go. He finally breathed a sigh of relief and wanted to sit on the chair. Take a break and then go down for dinner.

But as soon as his head touched a place to lean on, the irresistible sleepiness took the opportunity to invade his consciousness, followed by other things.

Coop slammed the table, and the objects on the table jumped up and down slightly, "Craft!"

This time, he was finally close enough to enter the self-defense range. Kraft's eyelids opened instantly and his left hand was raised. I can feel that something is about to form around me, but it stops halfway as my consciousness returns.

"Craft." He repeated what he heard. His eyes were not focused where they should be, as if he had doubts about his name for a moment. "Oh, Coop, is the supper ready?"

"Are you okay?"

"It should be fine." Kraft straightened his back and glanced at the quiet box on the table, "Did I fall asleep just now?"

"Did you dream about anything?"

"Nothing." Kraft replied, and Coop felt relieved because he could no longer see the serious and nervous look on his face.

"It's just that side."