The corpse turned around and climbed into a hole in the ceiling, squirting blood in every direction, dripping the words: Your time will come soon enough!
"Me too! Lets go to the armory to find some weapons! The guards must keep their guns somewhere." Lance turns to the signs saying in case of an outbreak go here. "We can also go the other way to the basement".
"That thing had excellent handwriting, I must say. And people say blood is no good for writing." Oliver begins to think this is some kind of prank. "Here, look, I bet this isn't even blood!" He reaches down to taste some, and prove his point.
The ghost saw one of them collapse. It started laughing to itself, despit the pain and anger. Kill, kill, kill, it repeated over and over again as it sped up towards the now helpless member of the group.
Lance picks up Oliver with all of his strength. "Help me!" He tries to shoot the entity to make it go away, then he begins running towards the stair well.
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