squeaksqueaksqueaksqueak
wheels rolling on tiled floors; squeaking metal gears as the trolley moved. dull florescent lights pulsed and flickered, causing the neon-skeletal imprint on his long-since-stained fur to dance and glow in the blips of darkness. the smell hung in the air; sterile, mildew, formaldehyde, spoiled meat.
squeaksqueaksqueaksqueak
the dark double-doors at the end of the hall were pushed in by the steel nose of the square steel steed, it's endlessly squeaking limbs skirted by the white satin cloth. He wasn't sure why the cadavers needed such lengthy pieces of fabric; every body he'd seen had yet to beat 6'0 in height, or 300 pounds in weight.
That wasn't including the parts that weren't found. Heck, last weeks accident with the sleep deprived pewter rhino and a family of muskrats proved that a body could have easily fit two trollies- if the rest of the driver had been found. The family of marsupials could've been scraped out and fit on a dinner plate.
Sirus lent his body weight into the next set of doors, half-paying attention as he looked down at the sheeted body, laid ever so straight on the metal slab. Gentle waves of air cascaded over the sheer fabric as he walked purposefully on, playing out the illusion of there being seamless streams cascading over the body just below. Soft; gentle. Maybe thats why these sheets were used, as just a sliver of comfort, that perhaps whatever sliver of soul might be clinging to the husk would find easement in the tenderness of satin cloth.
Of course, it could just be his own preambling thoughts and the mostly-formaldehyde atmosphere in the backrooms.