The Intercom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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damned_institute2012-05-20 04:09 pm
damned_intercom) wrote in damned_institute2012-05-20 04:09 pm
Night 63: Entry Room
Quiet static filtered through the intercom as the door to the Entry Room was pushed open. The area was almost completely dark, save for the flickering beam spilling from the lone, abandoned flashlight on the floor.
If that wasn't enough to put any entering patients on edge, the crimson puddle smeared across the flashlight's path likely was. The source of the blood soon became obvious: two still corpses lay sprawled next to each other. One was Daemon Sadi -- or, rather, what was left of him. Although his face was still recognizable enough, one of his arms was missing, and his chest looked as those some creature had reached in and ripped his heart out.
The other mangled body was trickier to place, as the poor person's flesh was twisted and bloated beyond recognition in some places, not unlike the way some of the nurses had transformed on the buses.
Closer inspection would reveal the face of a man in his final moments. Some would even see the distinct tattoos and recognize him as Abarai Renji. More unnerving was the abandoned, bloodied knife resting next to the former man's corpse, his belly having been gouged open for some unknown purpose. A trail of scarlet footsteps led away from the scene before abruptly disappearing at the northern door.
Did a similar fate await the unfortunate one who had stumbled across this bloodbath?
If that wasn't enough to put any entering patients on edge, the crimson puddle smeared across the flashlight's path likely was. The source of the blood soon became obvious: two still corpses lay sprawled next to each other. One was Daemon Sadi -- or, rather, what was left of him. Although his face was still recognizable enough, one of his arms was missing, and his chest looked as those some creature had reached in and ripped his heart out.
The other mangled body was trickier to place, as the poor person's flesh was twisted and bloated beyond recognition in some places, not unlike the way some of the nurses had transformed on the buses.
Closer inspection would reveal the face of a man in his final moments. Some would even see the distinct tattoos and recognize him as Abarai Renji. More unnerving was the abandoned, bloodied knife resting next to the former man's corpse, his belly having been gouged open for some unknown purpose. A trail of scarlet footsteps led away from the scene before abruptly disappearing at the northern door.
Did a similar fate await the unfortunate one who had stumbled across this bloodbath?
no subject
As surprises went, Scott would have preferred a pony.
The colour seeped out of Scott's face as the scene before him sunk in. He had nearly slipped on the carpet, it was so slick with blood; he wasn't sure what kept him standing now, either. Maybe just the fact that he could barely make out the full horror in the flickering glow.
There were deaths at the Institute and then there was . . . Scott tried to swallow and failed. Indy's death was starting to look merciful.
He took a step back, breathing deadly quiet. "Have you seen a little girl? Short, black hair? About seven years old?" Scott murmured this to himself as he edged along the dark stains, trying not to discern the twisted shapes of carnage but almost compelled to make them out all the same. He didn't know either of them. Even with the distinguishing marks, the most he could think was that he had maybe seen someone with tattoos around the Institute before. At least there weren't any tufts of blue hair scattered through the scene, he thought with a violent churn in his stomach.
His ears stayed wide open as he slowly, slowly made his way along the side wall, keeping his back to it. Partly to stay as far away from the bodies as he could, partly so that if whatever (or whoever) had done this was still around, they couldn't get the jump on him. Probably.
no subject
Ramona went from craving grilled cheeses to completely sick to her stomach in three seconds. Actually, it was faster. It was instantaneous> Why did she think this was a good idea? Though she was too stunned to actually ask herself that.
The other thing that happened immediately was the glowing. Ramona's fingers curled as she looked at the mangled body and then up toward Scott. ... Scott? Her eyes turned toward his hands. They weren't bloody. He didn't do this, right? He looked scared, right? Truthfully, Ramona wasn't registering it. There was just a strong part of her that wanted to throw up, and another strong part of her that wanted to run.
Yet she was almost paralyzed with fear.
Her hold on the baseball bat didn't loosen, though. It only tightened as she looked between the "mess" and Scott, though she wasn't exactly swinging her head to do this. It was just a twitch of her eyes back and forth.
"Scott, you didn't—" she managed, pulling the bat back toward her to prep it. The action was familiar, instantaneous, and just in case. Scott warned her they could do things to them, and maybe that was just it. Maybe Scott was given the ability to rip someone apart without going all Kill Bill bloody style with it.
Of course, that didn't make sense. Not at all. But Ramona's head wasn't making a lot of sense at the moment.
no subject
It was for that reason that Scott was slow to react when Ramona entered the room, and slow to raise his hands up when she prepped that bat. "No! No—" Scott coughed, the back of his throat unprepared for the stench hitting it full force. He covered his mouth, breathed through his sleeve for a moment, then looked back up. "No, it's just... Just me."
Considered how their last meeting had gone, Scott wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing to be right now.
"...Can we go?" he asked after a dry swallow.