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"My clock has got four hands. One for hate, one for threat; one for regret and one for my existence."
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A strong odor of phenyl was drifting in the air, sending nauseating feeling into the male's stomach. He locked the door behind him and entered into the corridor; steps small and silent.
Though the corridor was dimly lit, he could obviously make out the template number pinned on the certain room, 'Cabin 212'.
Yoongi sucked on his breath, a sharp pain suddenly shooting through his spine. He tried spotting the doctors who were in charge, but failed because it was already eight. Meaning their shifts were changing and new doctors were on their ways.
