Post by [x] Finland on Mar 16, 2012 14:50:53 GMT -5
The paper in front of him was still blank. Still.
It was frustrating. Text books were spread out around him, diagrams of the hypothalamus pinned and pasted to the wall and print outs of any sort of theory that anyone, even some random kook from the Internet, could come up with littered his desk and fell off of the corners, and yet he still. Couldn't. Find. Anything.
It was insanity, absolute insanity. For all of the lab scientists in the world none of them could come up with anything good? Or was it just that he couldn't find them, maybe? Either way, he could feel himself, for the first time in a while, really losing grip.
What he needed was a sample. What he needed was any sample, a tooth, a skin tissue, a fucking cell from one of those dead bastards and maybe he could finally start to get somewhere and get out of this damn rut.
Most of his petri dishes sat unfilled. The ones that were filled held nothing, save for one starting to mould. His test tubes were still shiny clean, and the autoclave had barely been touched. The only thing that he observed through his microscopes anymore was dust.
He could get somewhere if he could just get a sample! If someone could go get bit (not that he wanted anyone to, but there was no crime in being an opportunist) or get close enough to scratch at one of the grimy fucks, or even just scrape one open and preserve the blade... He could culture it, test it to see what protiens it was full of, maybe finally start to make the coveted- and so far imaginary- vaccine that they so desperately needed.
But still he sat, and his paper was blank.
It was frustrating. Text books were spread out around him, diagrams of the hypothalamus pinned and pasted to the wall and print outs of any sort of theory that anyone, even some random kook from the Internet, could come up with littered his desk and fell off of the corners, and yet he still. Couldn't. Find. Anything.
It was insanity, absolute insanity. For all of the lab scientists in the world none of them could come up with anything good? Or was it just that he couldn't find them, maybe? Either way, he could feel himself, for the first time in a while, really losing grip.
What he needed was a sample. What he needed was any sample, a tooth, a skin tissue, a fucking cell from one of those dead bastards and maybe he could finally start to get somewhere and get out of this damn rut.
Most of his petri dishes sat unfilled. The ones that were filled held nothing, save for one starting to mould. His test tubes were still shiny clean, and the autoclave had barely been touched. The only thing that he observed through his microscopes anymore was dust.
He could get somewhere if he could just get a sample! If someone could go get bit (not that he wanted anyone to, but there was no crime in being an opportunist) or get close enough to scratch at one of the grimy fucks, or even just scrape one open and preserve the blade... He could culture it, test it to see what protiens it was full of, maybe finally start to make the coveted- and so far imaginary- vaccine that they so desperately needed.
But still he sat, and his paper was blank.