Setting: Projector Room
Time: Night 007, not too long after the beginning of the night
Summary: See Zetta. See Zetta's memories. See Zetta get pissy... Some more
He wasn't really sure how he'd gotten here. A wrong turn, maybe, or something like that (stupid freaking other hose). Didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like this place had anything interesting. Sure, there was a projector in here and that'd work if the movie didn't suck, but hell if he knew how to use it.
Tch, at least that burning bastard wasn't running after him again. And, anyway, it didn't seem like there were any monsters showing up in here. Not that he couldn't still take 'em even if he was still hurting, but that wasn't the point. He could only bash the shit out of so many disgusting freaks of nature before it stopped being fun and started being annoying.
Zetta sat down and leaned back against the wall with a slight wince. Stupid son of a bitch. There was no reason he should still have to be dealing with these wounds. Why couldn't there be a hospital or some kind of healer in here or something? Just one would be fine for Magog's sake! Hell if he knew anything about treating wounds beyond putting a band-aid on it.
The Overlord grumbled to himself a little while longer before shutting his eyes, figuring he'd be fine as long as he got in a good week's sleep or so. At least a day or two.
Fat chance he'd be allowed to.