damned_institute | Night 67: M-A Block Hallway

[From here]

Scar made his way into the block hallway, eyes sharp and alert despite his symptoms. He needed to get to Frank as quickly as possible, or God only knew what would happen. He was certain that Frank's roommate was aware of his transformation, but he couldn't know how well he could manage the issue.

The cure could wait. For now, he needed to make sure that nobody else died.

[From here]

Ah, and there was his intended prey, just waiting for him. How... nice of Scar. Silently, Loki eased into position. He used another precious illusion to keep himself invisible, then created a second - ah, he could feel the strain of that limit, how annoying - to make a shape in the hallway, something vaguely humanoid but also monstrous, glowing eyes and a lashing tail. It wore the remnants of a hospital uniform.

Now, if Scar were true to form, he would go after it like a bull, and that would leave him quite vulnerable to an attack from behind. Loki turned the kunai slowly in his fingers, his other hand with its temporary scalpel "claws" utterly relaxed. While it was a thing more suited to throwing, it would slice through an artery quite nicely. As would the scalpels.

Dammit.

Scar caught view of the beast in the beam of his flashlight. Whatever (whoever) that was, it wasn't the thing that Frank had become.

Contrary to Loki's expectation, Scar sank into a readied stance but did not immediately lash out. He was alone (so he thought) with this creature. When it was a matter of nobody's life but his own, he could keep a level head.

Eyes narrowed, he slunk on light feet toward the illusion. If nothing else, he needed to stop it from getting to the main hallways.

Well, that was interesting. It could think! Who could have guessed. Loki readjusted his positioning. He needed Scar to be off-balance, fully committed to an attack before he struck. He had the illusion "notice" Scar, hiss at him, and retreat toward the main hallway. That would hopefully push him to act. He was read to hop the illusion back out of the way rather than let it be shattered, since that would be a bit too obvious, but hopefully this would goad Scar into lunging. Loki followed silently along, ready to strike.

The illusion's movement toward the main hallway was enough. Scar was quick for a man his size, his loose Eastern styled robes easy to move in. He lunged for the beast, ready to use whatever means necessary to keep the transformed patient from accessing the larger areas of the institute.

Scar had no idea that anybody else was in the hall, heard no sign of Loki following him.

Two things happened simultaneously: first, the illusion leaped up out of the way, clinging lithely to the ceiling. Second, Loki struck, using every bit of superior strength and speed that he had. He came in from behind, hands moving simultaneously to draw blades across Scar's neck and then lunge back to let momentum do the cutting.

Hopefully he would catch the windpipe and prevent screaming, but really, as long as he dug far enough into flesh, no one would be able to help the man.

There was a faint flicker as the interaction broke the illusion, but he immediately cast another, making himself into another creature like the one that now seemed to cling to the ceiling.

It was only after a moment that seemed to drag on for days that Scar realized what had happened. He would have gasped, but no air would come to his lungs. He fell forward, unable to properly support himself on his hands and knees.

A thousand things flew through his mind in that moment. Rapunzel and Tsubaki and Murphy and Frank and Lust... The last time he had died, it had been long and painful- physically and emotionally.

But at least he had not been alone. He spent much of what little time he had marveling at his own idiocy, at his own hypocrisy. His outright cruelty toward the person who stood so firmly by his side until the end whether he liked it or not. Who still did. Had he not just been thinking about it earlier?

And of course what rang out the strongest in his mind's eye was his brother's smiling face- slightly aged in the photograph, realistically from the time he died. And Scar standing beside him, his big brother's arm around his shoulder. That had been his drive. His one goal, set from the moment the picture fell out of that book in the possessions room.

And he had failed. Scar had failed again. This had been his chance to make things right. Truly, it must have been a godsend. But God really did hate the beast of Ishbal, to dangle the greatest prize right in front of his nose so that he would not notice death's angel sneaking up behind him once again to slit his throat. The only indication to his thoughts was the flash of pain in his eyes, a feeling unlike he had experienced since his brother's body grew cold in the Amestrian wastelands. He was beyond the physical strain and agony. The wounds Loki had inflicted were much deeper, and the man who thought him to be nothing more than an oaf probably did not even realize it.

Scar tried to stop the blood flow with shaking hands to no avail. The weak grasp of his hands fell slack before long. Scar was dead. Again.

Loki moved into Scar's dying field of view, still disguised as the monster, and had the illusion of the other crawl down the wall, moving in with obvious intent to feed.

He pulled back out of line of sight and dropped that illusion, instead masking them all with invisibility before digging his faux-claws into the man's leg, just to give one last impression of what was about to be done to him. While he did not care for torture, he also did not have much time, though he waited for the man's weak struggles to cease before doing more. He did not wish to risk even his sheet-masked face being the last sight of those dying eyes.

Loki made quick work of drawing the signs of animal clawing and tearing into the man's body. He rolled the corpse over and slit the belly open, strewing the entrails about for effect, burning through another illusion as he did so. Then he quickly stripped off his bloody coat, gloves, and protective gear, rolling the lot into a sheet and stowing his weapons about his person again.

Clean and pristine, he let the invisibility over Scar drop and used one last illusion to keep himself hidden as he sought out a place to dispose of the evidence.

[To here]

Edited 2012-11-30 04:54 (UTC)

[From here.]

Castiel made a lot of noise, working his way across the hall with a pair of crutches as his aid. It was loud, it was slow, it was tiring, and there wasn't a single part of the experience that he enjoyed, but he was on the move. He was doing some amount of good. So long as he focused on that, he could keep moving forward.

The Head Doctor had, of course, made his announcement earlier. Castiel had been busy getting used to the crutches and hadn't listened as closely as he might have otherwise, but he'd still picked up the gist of it. As usual, Landel enjoyed holding his own superior knowledge over them. Curing themselves was likely just part of some convoluted plan, but Castiel didn't let that bother him.

Better to be like this, struggling to make each step with his crutches, than be plagued with some illness that might contort him into something bloodthirsty and uncontrollable.

Castiel nudged the door out of the block open with a crutch leg and then continued out into the next hall.

[To here.]

Edited 2012-11-30 00:31 (UTC)

[from here]

He had been silent through the halls, thoughts as void as his expression. There was no need to use the ring to gain access to Nigredo's hall. Albedo knew his brother would be there, waiting for him. From the actions of earlier, he had seemed more aware, but it was too much close to hope to think Nigredo was simply becoming healthy without the effort of a cure. And Albedo had never been one for hope.

The thought crossed his mind that he had taken this route before, in a mentality close to this. And Rubedo had not been what Albedo needed. And Rubedo had not been there.

[to here]

Edited 2012-11-30 06:15 (UTC)

[From here]

Fai headed into the next hallway and looked around. It seemed like things were pretty quiet around here and yet he could sense a fair amount of activity buzzing around the entire institute.

"Hello..?" Another call in the hope of an answer but things were only growing more confusing by the moment. He started towards what appeared to be a main hallway. He wondered if he would get answers out there.

[to here]

Edited 2012-11-30 06:10 (UTC)

[through from here]

With Fai's agreement to follow came another reminder of how different the magician was in comparison with the other that had been there. However serious the situation was, Fai had almost always attempted to get away from it in whatever way he could. The only ones that had really kept him from doing so were Tsubaki and Chise as well, not him.

If getting Fai to follow him was now a simple task, maybe getting him to understand would be less difficult as well. Or at least listen properly.

Through the doorway and into the first hall, Kurogane did not stop as he took the handle of M40 and pushed his way in.

[continuing to here]

Edited 2012-12-02 07:17 (UTC)

[and through from here again]

"There are a few places Landel's been seen," he explained as he passed into the small hallway, "Only one is reachable without tricks: the chapel upstairs. I found one of his lackeys there once, so it's as good a bet as any." And the best they could manage if time was short. He didn't know if Landel was waiting on something, but night could end at a moment's notice here. Since they were heading out now, he wanted to get at least something done, even if it was only proving that he could handle himself after all that had been done to him.

Fai let the ninja lead once they were in the hallway, falling into step next to him. Fai looked around at the walls, memorizing the area as best he could as they were traveling. "So we're looking for the owner of this place? Does he usually make himself so easily found?"

Fai had strength now that he had fed so he was sure he could handle any dangers that came their way. But this Landel was an unknown. He could not be sure that he was ready to take on whomever was powerful enough to bring them there. He really hoped Kurogane wasn't looking for a fight.

"We're not," he said, pushing through the doorway and out into the hallway where he'd first found the magician wandering.

[gone here]

[from here]

Soushi's slippered feet padded quietly on the tile floor. He hadn't walked more than a few steps when the scent of blood hit his nose. It was fresh, and as the light of his flashlight followed the hall, he could see a body, still as death.

It was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as a tingle of fear crept through him, resting in the pit of his stomach. Was he already too late? As curiosity got the better of him and he took a few steps closer, it certainly looked as if the man had been torn apart by some kind of demon. The entrails torn out, but the man was also surprisingly whole for such an attack. Soushi took a few steps in the other direction, planning to put as much distance as he could between himself and whatever had done this.

His eyes narrowed as he willed his sword to his hand, waiting for the rush of sakura petals that would herald his transformation, but to his surprise, nothing happened. No wind, no petals, and his clothing was as drab as ever. It didn't make sense. Were his powers sealed somehow?

Regardless, he moved on, covering his mouth with his free hand as he went. Hopefully death wouldn't follow him as well.

[here]

[from here]

Kratos was certainly taking his time... Maybe he had other matters, or maybe unlike Kyousuke, he'd thought better of going out tonight. Who knew. But in any case, he'd been instructed to go alone if it came to that, so eventually, the boy pulled himself up and pushed his way out into the hall. Despite his condition, getting around was easier than he would have thought, and it was nice to abandon the wheelchair and stretch his legs again. Still, he had to move slowly. The medication would do him good for now, but battered as he was, he'd pay the price later if he overexerted himself.

Once at the door leading out the patient blocks, he hesitated, glancing back at the small distance he'd covered. Still no sign of Kratos... He wondered if he should wait a little longer, unsure if he was just being impatient, but in the end, he had to shrug and make his way into the next hall.

[to here]

Edited 2012-11-30 19:16 (UTC)

[From here]

Link turning into the block hallway, light and fast on his feet. Tonight, he needed the time to find the greenhouse as well as to Soma's room. His brief spell of grief was through, pushed to the back of his mind.

Now, there were things to be done.

He smelled the blood before he saw it. Link stopped short, his stomach lurching uncomfortably. There was a man on the ground, torn to shreds. The beasts must have already gotten out, tonight. What little healing the Hylian had managed was erased. He felt sick. Another person was dead. Link looked up and down the hallway. Did anybody know him? He had seen him around, but he hadn't seemed like the most sociable kind of person.

He sank down onto one knee, eyes closed and his knife held against the ground by its tip. He bowed his head, murmuring a prayer to Nayru. Let his spirit find its way home, wherever it may be.

Link stood, continuing on his way at a much less zealous pace. His drive had been crushed.

[To here]

Edited 2012-11-30 22:32 (UTC)

[From here!]

No matter how many times he went through this hallway, it never got less unnerving. The moving shadows, the threat that an enemy was nearby...

This place was a battlefield, plain and simple. It just wasn't the kind of battlefields that X was accustomed to. Instead of violent machines and screeching humans, it was disinfectant, monsters, and head games.

But soon...he could feel it, this would all come crashing down on Landel's head, and the patients wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

...He swore it.

Gripping the pipe tighter, he hurried on.

[To Here!]

Edited 2012-12-01 18:19 (UTC)

[From here]

The replica wished he hadn't wondered what smelled like ground beef in the hallway. As soon as he turned the corner Luke found his answer and the mangled carcass of a man. It was no one he recognized, but it made him balk just the same.

His first instinct was to be on guard with his sword poised at the lurking darkness around him. For all he knew the man or beast that had done this could still be lying in wait for another attack. Luke listened for any signs of movement or growling, but nothing came.

"Damnit..." he cursed, frustrated he couldn't enact any kind of justice for the unlucky bastard at his feet. More people would be killed tonight if someone didn't track the maniac down and put an end to its evil deeds. For now, all he could do was continue and stay alert for any signs of foul play.

[from here]

Any comfort from wearing his familiar suit was dashed the moment the Once-ler stepped into the hall. He only managed a few steps before he froze, his flashlight shining on the gruesome scene.

There was blood everywhere. And not just blood, he realized with increasing horror; organs, or bits of them, strewn about a mangled body in the hall.

He sagged against the wall, stomach churning as he clapped a gloved hand over his mouth and nose. If he had bothered to eat his dinner, it would have certainly made a return appearance at this sight. It was a horrible sight, but he couldn't look away. Something about the clothes on the body, at least what he could see, was familiar. But then his flashlight beam caught the x-shaped scar on the face of the body.

It was Scar. Something had torn his roommate apart.

The Once-ler ran. He ran straight to the door leaving the block, ignoring the protests from his not-fully healed leg. He didn't notice the small splatters of blood his feet kicked up. All he could think of was running, getting away from that horrible sight and smell.

[to here]

Edited 2012-12-04 07:28 (UTC)

((From here.))

When Barnaby's flashlight illuminated the next hallway, the splattered scene of carnage that greeted them stopped him in his tracks. The hallway was practically painted with blood and entrails, with the corpse serving as the centerpiece.

It was a patient -- or, at least, what was left of him. And though the picture was gruesome enough to make anyone ill, Barnaby had unfortunately seen enough bloodshed that the shock didn't overcome him.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he turned toward his partner. "Did you see this man on the way to my room?"

"No," he replied, virtually stunned into silence by these turn of events waiting just outside Barnaby's door. Wild Tiger didn't recognize the man as someone he had ever talked to during the day, but that didn't make it any less gut-wrenching. "I didn't pass anyone..."

Turning on his own flashlight, he illuminated any dark corners around them. It hadn't been that long since he had knocked on his partner's door and let himself in; whatever had savaged this man could still be lurking in the shadows. But when nothing entered his keen vision, he turned his attention back on the pile of gore that had once been a living, breathing person. And he probably could have remained that way if the former Hero had just been a few minutes late to Barnaby's room. Would the blond have transformed by the time he had saved this stranger? Would Barnaby possibly have died without that cure given to him so quickly? They would never know now, but what he did know was that there was a dead body left on his watch.

Despite the horror of it all, the older man made himself memorize the face of the man he had let down. Hadn't he been the one telling Barnaby that these patients needed to know Heroes were watching out for them? Well, a lot that did them, Tiger thought morosely.

The patient's demise was very unfortunate, especially since they both wanted to reduce casualties as much as possible. And if Barnaby knew Kotetsu as well as he thought he did, the man was likely giving himself mental lashings over his failure to prevent it. The heaviness in his voice and the look on his face said it all.

"Then, from what I can tell, there is nothing you could have done to stop this," Barnaby quietly assured him. His green eyes suddenly settled on the corpse because he, too, thought he ought to commit the dead stranger's face to memory. "I realize that doesn't make what happened any less upsetting, but please don't blame yourself for something you had zero control over."

It was hard to take in Barnaby's advice when he couldn't hear it above his own mind churning with scenarios that could have saved the civilian. "We should have heard him. Why didn't--?" Wild Tiger stopped himself from going down that road, not because it was uselessly chastising, but because if this had been a fresh kill as he suspected, then the monster was likely to be close. It was strange that there were no prints to follow, but instinct told him to proceed to the next hallway.

"We can probably catch up with it!" he called to his partner before bypassing the mess on the floor and sprinting for the door. The former Hero thought about activating his NEXT power to track down the beast faster, but realizing how limited their strength was in this place, it was better saved for when he really needed it.

[To here]

Edited 2012-12-13 01:17 (UTC)

[ doot ]

Flashlight off and pocketed, he paused only for an instant to be sure Vantas-kun followed before beginning a brisk pace toward the turn into the next corridor. Sore as his long legs were, and however much time Kratos-san intended to be before arriving himself, Uryuu was loath to waste time.

Edited 2012-12-20 11:02 (UTC)

Was there really any hurry? He supposed if the Institute could drag them back as easily as it had before then it made sense to want to get things done in a timely fashion, but he didn't like the idea of running through the halls and attracting anything potentially dangerous.

He didn't want to whine like a little bitch the whole way their either, though, so he stayed quiet for once and just followed along.

> ==>

Night 67: M-A Block Hallway

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