Streams of light cut through aimless dust motes. Silence drenched the theater. Dry air sat unmoving.
Private Peter Kline clattered over debris. Nails stabbed his hands and knees, shredding his uniform, but he felt no pain. He had lost that ability during the early part of the war. That sniper bullet made him lose more than just that...but that story is for another place and time. Right now he had only one thing in mind. It wasn't all that clear to him what he was searching for but he knew if he found what ever it was then he'd know what to do. Peter continued to climb over the rows of red velvet chairs.
There! He could feel it was here somewhere. He moved faster. He had to have it. He wanted it. Peter clambered over some fallen ceiling and landed in the dirty aisle. He stood up and paused. Peter could sense it was closer. His glazed over eyes searched the ill-lit room. Where was it? It was here! He knew it was! He groaned his frustration. He wanted it. He wanted it so bad. The thought of it consumed him. It felt like it was here. Like it was with him, next to him. It felt like it was...behind him!
Peter whipped around.
"Guten tag, Schweinehund."
author note-more to come :) the Dr.'s Pov next