So hi, I just wrote a short drabble! It was my only idea for anything, and I finally did it. I hope you like it! Also please let me know if you would like to read more from me, because I might write more to build up some tolerance against some genres and to beef up my english.


The office of Mr. Mercer was quieter than usual. There wasn't much sound other than the cars engines seeping in from the slightly ajar window, the sound of the fish tanks filter and sometimes the clicking of the keyboard, even though three people were present. By this time some sort of talking would've happened in normal circumstances. This time Mr. Mercer silently watched the recording of an operation that took place not long ago once again to just grasp what happened there. He wasn't concerned about looking at the two doctors, who were as still as they could be, maybe believing that they might be able to disappear, and not be a part of the interaction. Their director paused the camera footage once again and combed through his beard with one of his hand, deep in thought. How could this happen? He had to deal with a patient in coma, and a dead surgeon, Dr. Evans, a valuable none the less! All because a procedure that wasn'teven followed through with. He looked over to the other two men sitting opposite of him. On his left was Timothy Gray, looking like the everyman of the district with his white complexion and brown slicked back hair. The only thing that looked out of place was his facial expression: with wide eyes he wasn't quite looking at Mr. Mercer, but out the window right behind him, and hid his mouth and chin by covering them with one of his hand. On his right was Adel Tulba, who was usually highly responsive and too curious for his own good, but not at that moment. He looked as if he shut himself down, appearing calm and distant. He wasn'teven paying attention, instead he tilted his head away and fixed his eyes on the fishtank, and its inhabitants.

„What does this supposed to mean?" The director decided to break the silence, to which both doctors looked up, internally debating who will answer the question.

„What do you mean what?" Adel asked back after a few seconds of waiting „you saw the footage. We saw the exact same thing." Mr. Mercer sighed at the pushing back from Adel, but didn't back down.

„At least let me ask some questions." He answered in an exasperated tone. When neither of them objected to it, he continued. „What could've been the reason he snapped?"

Timothy opened his mouth first, but then closed it without saying anything, he didn't found his own answer satisfactory, while Adel squinted, mowing over the question again. Then he answered still looking puzzled. „It was either when he saw the patient or when I handed him the scalpel."

„And why do you think that?" Mr. Mercer was quick to follow up.

„Beacuse he took it, and stabbed the patient!" Adel picked up the pace with the question, while Mr. Mercer looked at the frames that the surgeon was referring to, then flipped forward to the next ones.

„And you pulled him off, yes.." He muttered to himself. Dr. Evans got grabbed by Timothy and Adel, and they hurled him away from the operation table, which resulted in Dr. Evans falling to the ground, but he got up fairly quickly, still holding the scalpel in his hand.

„What did he say back there?" Mr. Mercer asked in a flat tone. The only answer he got was Timothy furrowing his eyebrows and shaking his head subtly, and Adel screwing up his face and shrugging. They both felt the same way about the question: they didn't know how to answer. What Dr. Evans say back there did indeed sound like speech with intention, but neither understood it. As if it was said in a language that wasn't supposed to be heard. Their director did wait, even though he knew he wasn't going to get an actual response.

„Adel..." Mr. Mercer sighed. Adel glanced down at the floor, sensing the disappointment in his voice. „before you started chest compressions, did he have a pulse" The doctor shook his head. No, no, he didn't have any. Back there Dr. Tulba thought he was dead already when he got up, said something in a way he didn't understand, and collapsed for good. He looked and felt dead.

„Was there any sign beforehand of him being off?"

„No, he acted the same as before." Adel shook his head, still gazing at the ground. „Maybe he was more withdrawn than usual.."

„And are you sure about that?" Mr. Mercer interrupted, since Adel seemed unsure to him, but he didn't budge from his stance.

„Well, I am. If there were signs, then they were so miniscule, that they could've been written of as anything." This time Timothy was the one who deflected, backing up his colleague.

Mr. Mercer looked over to his computer, thinking of a solution to this, and addressed the the two doctors in front of him. „Don't say a word about what happened today. Not to the others, or anyone else outside of HOA. I'll manage it, but in order to be successful, no news can be made about this." They both nodded, letting him know that they will do as he said. „Both of you can go now."

They were both dismissed, so they got up and made their way to the door. Timothy was the first one to leave, in his haste he left his notepad behind, which was picked up by Adel swiftly, as he hurried away as well before abruptly stopping at the doorway, looking right at Mr. Mercer as if he wanted to say something. Mr. Mercer already knew what he wanted, so he shut him off before he could say it. „No you can't feed the fish." To that Adel let out a sound like this was a personal attack on him, and left the room.

And now the office of Mr. Mercer got even quieter than before.