Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

[thesadist]

[Coming from here.]


Daemon glided out into the wider corridor and paused for a moment, letting Renji join him, taking a moment to probe the shadows with his senses, looking for anything out of the norm. There was a tingle down his spine, the sensation of being watched, though he couldn't find its exact location, just the knowledge that it was there. He paused, debating on whether it was worth the effort of searching out, or leaving it to others while he and Renji kept heading for the stairs. He could see them from here, the door illuminated by his witchlight just off to his right.

He waited for Renji to join him, figuring the Shinigami would want a say.

"There are things moving in the shadows," he murmured to the redhead as the male moved out from the corridor behind him. Daemon didn't look at all disturbed by this statement, floating a few inches above the ground with a relaxed grace that was utterly foreign for their situation. Looking almost bored, he studied his black-tinted nails with a sleepy, hooded gaze.

Comments

[norainu]

"Yes," Renji growled, sounding more amused than anything, "he does have a name." He smirked as he walked along at Daemon's side. "And he's itching for a fight."

He paused next to Daemon, head cocked slightly as he listened to something that wasn't quite physical. "Well, not our problem if there's something that wants to die tonight, is it. But we should probably clean house as we go. There are kids running around, you know. Someone could get hurt." He gave Daemon a wicked grin. "Don't worry sweety, I'll protect you."

[thesadist]

Daemon gave a quiet, derisive snort. "Oh, that's very reassuring," he drawled, his tone dry as his golden eyes searched the darkness. There. A glint of eyes in the blackness, a shadow a bit deeper than that surrounding it. More than one.

"We have company, darling. It's rude to keep them waiting," he crooned, his gaze hooded with a dangerous glint in icy golden eyes. he glided a bit further down the hall, able to make shapes out now. Felines. Large, and black as the night they were melting out of. It was hard to judge their number. Three? Four? It didn't matter.

This would do to whet his appetite.

[train-tracer.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?thread=80834225#t80834225)]

There were already people this far out, too. Again though, they had nothing to do with Vino for now. But he did catch when someone quietly pointed out the moving shadows. Yes, moving shadows. He'd noticed them, too.

Vino didn't stay though. He had other places to be. It seemed like this spot was taken, anyway, if these two men seemed to be talking about what he thought they were. He could find his own spot.

No, no, wait! Shoulder, injuries, magic, yes. He was an adventurer tonight, a hero. He wasn't allowed to get distracted, even if the shadows were drawing him in. And he had a couple meetings to attend to. Couldn't forget those. Too many interesting things to pay attention to. But Vino would manage. He always did. Time to deal with them all at once! (The best method, Vino always felt, and the one that worked. Others disagreed, found it downright impossible even, though he could not understand how. Obviously, the way to overcome everything was to overcome it. How was this so difficult to do?)

He moved on, senses tingling. If there was time to kill before his meetings, maybe he'd take a peek into the shadows and see what monsters he could drive out.

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1187721.html)]

[tightsofmight]

[From here.]

There were a million questions to answer and Peter's mind was nothing but a big old blank. He knew I.R.I.S. had been freaking out. And there was the pink glow, and no real announcement after dinner ended, so something had to have been borked somewhere. But that did not mean he was anywhere close to getting his hopes up because really? Cutting them a break now? He'd been here for the better part of a month, Peter knew better than to hope for anything.

But he had his powers back, and -

Oh. Oh god there were people in this hall. People with flashlights and...wow, what the hell was that sword? What even - who could use that? In any life?

Also they were both ridiculously handsome and manly and it looked like they were going to beat on a gang of demon cats. Possibly the loved ones of the cat he'd given the death slap earlier. He should be comforted by the victory implied with that sword, but his only impressions were all kinds of queasiness. Possibly because he was still on the ceiling and all they had to do was look up.

Peter scuttled as he had never scuttled before. He thought he heard the musical squelch of a catsplosion beneath him. As he dipped into the Main Hall, he decided he didn't want to think about it.

[To here.]

[vinesofregret]

[From here]

As Hakkai ventured out into the wider hallway, he could hear more of the skittering behind him. He turned his flashlight towards the source of the noise, and caught a glimpse of not one, but two of the huge rats, this time. Rather than retreating back into the the darkness, though, they circled around the flashlight's beam, running through the gloom with unnatural speed toward him.

As he paused, startled, one leaped at his leg, it's sharp claws digging in to his calf. Apparently the animals were unusual in more than just size. A kick dislodged the animal, sending it flying towards the wall, where it hit with a rather sickening crunch.

There was another one still in the dark, though, so he ignored the sting in his leg, and played the flashlight around, one-handed, while he gathered a small ball of qi in his other hand. There - a flash of movement, and he flicked the energy at it. A squeal and the sudden cessation of movement told him it had gone true.

Now that the threat was gone, he could examine his attackers. He left the one he'd just killed alone - the energy blast meant it would probably be, ah, less than whole, and went to have a look at the one he'd flung at the wall. It was almost a foot long, and bulky for it's size. He hadn't noticed it on the one in the previous hallway, but it's claws and teeth were longer than they should be.

He frowned slightly, and stood, nudging the other body over to one side of the hallway. He was going to have to be careful - Firo had been right. There were monsters here at night. A little more cautious now, he headed further down the hall, to the next corridor.

[To here]

[age-of-kings.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?view=80859313#t80859313)]

The quite clear and obvious signs of blood and battle in the next corridor didn't do much to ease Tolten's fears about those claw sounds. He could smell the metallic yet organic tang of blood as soon as he opened the door, and he deliberately looked straight ahead as he felt his boots step in something slick and sticky.

There had been something horrible that happened here. At least the blood didn't smell human...though it was hard to tell, really.

"Oh gods...." he breathed. It smelled like the sewers. He didn't know what was going on, really, but he smelled blood and magic and his hand tightened on his length of pipe. Still he was certain he could hear noises behind them. "Locke, be careful. I...I don't know what we're going to find tonight...."

[kings_thief]

"Yeah...there's something here." Locke's senses went on alert and any good feelings he'd had quickly vanished when they entered the next hallway. He followed Tolten's example of trying not to look too hard at what they were walking on, keeping his eyes ahead of them and his ears trained on any little sound that came up.

"Clearly nothing good...if something comes up, though, I've got you covered." Locke sure as hell wasn't going to let some sort of creature get in their way or hurt his friend, besides, whatever they had here couldn't be any worse than what he'd already faced back home.

"Just have to stay alert...if we're lucky, we'll miss whatever might've come through here already.."

[dualistic]

[From here.]

This had to be the definition of from the frying pan into the fire. While it seemed that the scorpion he'd been trying to get away from hadn't followed him (wonder of wonders), the scene that Harvey came upon as he moved down the hall seriously looked like it was out of a horror film.

It was like what he'd seen in the hall earlier, except quadrupled. The bodies of what looked like they might have been cats were torn apart into pieces and the smell of their putrid blood was able to reach even him, despite his dulled senses. It just figured that he had to meet up with Jones in a disaster zone, but...

What really stood out was that there seemed to be a lot more monsters showing up much earlier in the night and much closer to the rooms than usual. More than that, all of these monsters (other than the scorpion) were dead. How could they have been killed so quickly? When fights broke out here, they were usually long and bloody, and the blood was usually more from the patient side. So what was this sudden change? Did it have anything to do with the Code Red that had been instated?

Well, all he could do was speculate for now. Harvey found a clean part of the hall to stand in, making sure to hang close enough to the door that he would see Jones come through it. As he'd guessed, he'd made it here first. The guy had better show.

[For Indy.]

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1186704.html?thread=80872080#t80872080)]

The first thing he noticed was the blood all over the floor, followed by what looked like some kind of shredded quadrupeds (cats?), obviously the source of most of that blood. The cats from the Sun Room? What was left of the corpses looked much too large. Indy was a dog person himself, but the mess was unsettling nonetheless: it was one of the worst scenes he'd ever come across here, and it was right next to the patient blocks. He'd always thought this hallway was relatively safe. Obviously it wasn't anymore.

The smell was awful. Who had killed them, anyway--patients? What weapons did the patients have that would have done that to these animals? He stepped over what was left of an oversized paw, with long, razor-sharp claws.

Jesus, Indy thought, they must have opened the cages.

When he looked up from the floor, he picked out Dent, who'd found the spot that would get his shoes the least dirty. Indy hurried over--not as fast as he would've before the arena or as steadily, but he was up and around. The pain was bearable, if he gritted his teeth some. "You all right?" he asked, and then, "Let's move." Since he wasn't planning on turning back, the best thing they could do would be to head where they were going as fast as possible, and hope they made it there before the lab rats got out in force.

[composers-proxy.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1184626.html)]

It wasn't long before he reached the main hall, though without orders from the Arts and Crafts club, he wasn't all the sure what he was doing. He'd told that psycho from a few nights back that he'd cure him, if the guy was even still around. Who knew? The guy seemed pretty well capable of keeping himself alive, but between people just disappearing and others getting themselves killed, it was hard to say.

After a few hurried steps, he stopped in his tracks. The static was gone. Things were clear. The voices he heard were only the ones he tuned in to and focused on. And his Psychs? He gave a hesitant flash of his hand, a snap of his fingers and flames danced on his palm. His psychokinetic powers were back. And he wasn't crazy or deranged or being controlled. Had someone managed to destroy whatever it was that kept blocking them all out?

[composers-proxy.livejournal.com]

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80878129#t80878129)]

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189014.html?thread=80876694#t80876694).]

As Zack entered the next hallway at a swift jog, he ended up having to skid to a halt as he realized that this area resembled the hall right outside of his room. In other words, it was covered in blood and chunks of flesh and all other sorts of unpleasant things. Once again, Zack had done enough monster hunting that he could look over all of this without flinching, but...

Coming across something like this twice seemed to imply something. He'd just fried that scorpion, right? If other monsters had been showing up and there had been patients with their powers back in place to fight them, then it definitely made sense that the result would be something like this.

So Aguilar had decided to pull out all the stops. Was that because he knew that they were going to be full-powered again? Was that what had started this whole Code Red thing in the first place? Well, the general could toss everything he had in his arsenal at them, but Zack was pretty sure that they could just toss it right back.

The weird pink barrier thing might prevent them from doing too much damage, but Zack wasn't going to let any of this slow him down. Nodding to himself, he crossed the bloody scene and moved toward the main hall.

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

[To here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80878897#t80878897).]

[corvus-veritas.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189014.html?thread=80862358#t80862358).]

There was more activity in this hallway than the previous one - way more. And not all of it was human, nor was it alive. More animal-like corpses in here, if the heavy smell of blood wasn't enough to give them away. Despite being so used to the sight and smell of death from his job, Byrne found the stench to be overwhelming. What the hell? The night had barely started, and yet he was already running across more monsters than he had seen personally in the whole week he'd been here. Which may or may not be saying much, but--but still!

Any other thoughts he had at the moment were interrupted when the sound of clicking nails rushed past his feet, prompting the prosecutor to almost literally jump three feet in the air out of surprise.

What. Was. THAT.

Despite the surprise, he didn't stop, merely glanced around his feet trying to spot whatever it was that was running nearby. Too dark to see, but he could hear it alright. Damnit, running around and making all this noise was a bad idea after all. Was it following him? Did it matter? Screw pacing himself, he was going to sprint like a freaking maniac!

[Running like hell to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1186704.html?thread=80893584#t80893584).]

[corvus-veritas.livejournal.com]

[Back from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?thread=80893873#t80893873).]

Back into Slaughterhouse Hall. The stench of death in here seemed to be even thicker than it had been a few minutes ago. Joy.

So where would Badd have gone, most likely? Upstairs? No matter where he went, it would be best to head to the main hallway first. Almost every other important location was linked through there. Besides, all Byrne could remember from the one time he'd gone the other direction was some field, and he was sure Badd wouldn't go out there--

...Shit, the clicking sound was getting louder. Coming toward him, or simply running past? Should he bolt? Should he stand still and hope to god it would ignore him?

He started power walking, looking around him for the source of the sound but being unable to see anything in the darkness. Go away! Isn't there anyone else you could be stalking right now, whatever you are? Leave me alone!

[To here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80895537#t80895537).]

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

He'd been looking for something out of the ordinary. It seemed he had found it.

Judging from the noise levels, the night was still young, but it already seemed as if a small battle had been fought in this hall. Blood and viscera covered the better part of the floor, and Javert grimaced as his boots slid on something wet and sticky. One of the mutilated corpses was just barely recognizable as a cat.

Impossible to tell what had gone on here. It was possible there was something large loose in the institute--something worse than the usual fare. But that was unlikely; there would have been other signs. More besides a few dead animals.

Javert frowned, but quickened his steps. He'd get to the bottom of it after he found Mlle. Skye.

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?thread=80867505#t80867505).]

So much for things seeming more or less the same. As Peter stepped out of the door, he was immediately faced with a scene that looked like it out of some sort of slasher movie. There was blood spread all over the floors, and more than that -- bits and pieces of flesh and bone and who knew what else was mixed in. Peter only needed to give it one look to realize that whatever had been killed wasn't human, but that didn't really make the scene any less disturbing.

"What the hell..." Slowly, he advanced forward and took a better look at everything. He wasn't used to this level of gore, but he managed to take it all in anyway. He knew that he needed to keep his head now, to not think too hard on how this had happened and what it might mean for them.

"Looks like there were at least three of these things." That was judging from the sheer amount of flesh, and certain different body parts and muscle groups that he was able to pick out. He wasn't a vet or anything, but the knowledge he had of the human body could be applied in other ways. He was just guessing, but it was a good enough one that they could put together some sort of picture of what had happened.

"I'm not even sure what could have done this to them," he admitted. Someone very powerful, obviously, but who had that level of strength left? They were all weakened here, and more than that, monsters usually didn't attack in such large groups. It seemed that the Code Red stuff wasn't unfounded, though Peter still wasn't sure what the exact emergency was. Had the thing that had done this been let loose by accident and now it was going on some sort of killing spree?

[boyking]

"Whoa, sonofabitch."

What the hell was right. Sam couldn't help wrinkling his nose at the smell. He pulled out his gun, coupling it with his flashlight as he eyed the scene and slid reflexively in front of Peter. That was definitely a sign of something having been exploded. It wasn't anything he hadn't seen before, but that didn't make it any less gross.

He did pause when the light fell on the ceiling. On the totally clean space in the ceiling. It looked weirdly human-shaped. Huh. That wasn't normal. It was probably just a coincidence, but. Was someone—? On the ceiling was what that thought had been, but that was too...

Okay, it actually wasn't that crazy. If Peter's brother could fly, there could be someone here who had Spider-Man-esque abilities. (Wait. Hang on. The kid. Peter Parker? That wasn't—?

Nah. No. No way.)

His attention returned to his roommate. Now more than ever he was glad he had his own clothes and that the military takeover crap had afforded them boots on a regular basis. Otherwise, he and Peter would be trekking through this crazy mess of gore and blood in freaking slippers.

"I'm not sure, either." He knew plenty of things, just none here. If people could explode something on a regular basis, the institute would be a hugely different story.

Crouching down, he peered at one of the chunks of meet and bone. He flipped open his knife and nudged out a fragment of...a claw. Looked like it was the giant felines that got blown sky high. Three, this close to the rooms? It happened, but it was rare.

"Maybe something from the institute turned on them." Like. A spirit. There were a crapton of spirits around here. It'd always made no sense to Sam that there was such a large amount of supernatural freaks gathered in one place and they all apparently just got along. They didn't even seem to cross paths most of the time. Had something held them back from attacking each other the same way his and Peter's abilities were held back? Was that the emergency failure deal going on earlier?

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

((From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?thread=80907953#t80907953).))

His flashlight beam fell onto puddles of crimson mixed with the mangled remains of corpses -- not humanoid, Spock quickly realized, but rather the foreign lifeforms commonly found within the institute. The Vulcan swept his light across the immediate area, checking for injured patients, as well as any potential enemies lurking the dark.

The scent of blood typically attracted other creatures in search of easy prey. He couldn't afford to stay here long.

Unfortunately, it appeared he'd been unable to spare even a few moments. Chattering reached his ears from all sides. Before tonight, Spock might have initially guessed they were human voices, but with his restored senses, he knew that wasn't the case. Mouth pressed into a thin line, Spock attempted to move ahead before he fell into an ambush.

Several pairs of large, yellow eyes gleamed at him from the dark before he could walk much further, however. The Vulcan grew still, quickly realizing that he'd somehow been surrounded by approximately seven creatures. Whatever these creatures were, they couldn't have been much taller than 2 feet. Despite their numbers, Spock likely still had the advantage, but that wasn't any reason to become careless.

One of them pounced, revealing razor-sharp teeth. With quick, economical movements, Spock brought his blade down, only to find that its skin was strong against it. Of course, the force he used was apparently enough to knock the creature away, sending it rolling across the floor for the time being. With the strength he possessed before, that shouldn't have been possible, and yet--

He didn't have time to puzzle the possibilities. Spock immediately heard another creature push off against the ground as it charged at him from behind. Without hesitating, he swung his leg around and clipped one of the creatures in the side. Bones crunched underneath the sheer force, and a sharp shriek sounded in the hallway. The creature's crippled body flew into the darkness.

The sides of Spock's eyes tightened at the sight, but that was the only outward sign of his distaste. It was unfortunate, but the current situation didn't allow for him to avoid engaging these creatures in combat.

That became all the more apparent when three of the lifeforms simultaneously launched themselves at him from different sides.

[For Goku.]

[monkeyboy]

[From here]

Out of nowhere, a childish cry joined the fray of squawking from the necrits. A body, not that much bigger than the strange creatures, crossed Spock's path and brought down one of the grey bodies out of the air. The initial kick broke half of its face but Goku wasn't done with it yet. He landed on top of it, crushing fragile bone and tissue between the hard floor and his combat boots until it was no better than road kill.

He didn't have time to admirehis handiwork, though. With inhuman quickness, Goku jumped back to face Spock and fry another armless monster with a hot white blast of ki. The necrit fell and sizzled harmlessly on the tile. It was up to Spock to finish off the last one in front of him.

[believein0.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189014.html?thread=80916886#t80916886).]

Things were quickly becoming more confusing and worrisome than usual. No, he was thankful for the speed and strength increases, but he wasn't able to understand how it was possible for them to--

--tch! Another one?--

Zero swung his pipe and missed whatever the large flying creature was that rushed past his head. But it wouldn't be so lucky the second time around. One strong pipe swing took it out of the air as it flew back at him, and it flopped to the ground, briefly stunned by the impact. A quick stomping took care of it before it had the chance to fly away. 'It' being a large bat, a fact he only noticed after it was dead.

It was then that he also noticed the whole slew of other corpses in the hallway. Which was...quite incredible, considering how the hallway was almost literally painted in blood and organs. None of the corpses looked human, thankfully, but the number of them - and the number of living beasts around, too - was still a little alarming. Any further thoughts about this subject, however, were put on hold as a second and third bat came flying at him as unexpectedly as the first.

They were disposed of the same way that the first bat had been: knock them out of the air, then stomp them into the ground before they could get away. It was trickier to catch them when they were both going at him from different sides, but with the return of his ability to sprint short distances at high speeds, the bats weren't able to touch him. That was good - he didn't need to be getting any injuries so early in the night.

He also didn't need to be continuously held up by random encounters when he had an important objective to accomplish here. As soon as the two bats were reduced to squished remains along with the first, Zero turned and began jogging down the hallway.

[To here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80917553#t80917553).]

[lighthearted]

[From here.]

When Sora stepped out of the door and into the hall, all he saw for a moment was red. It wasn't the kind of red that he wore when he was in his Valor Form, but a darker, rustier color that Sora knew to associate with blood at this point. But it was all over the place, covering the floor and the walls.

It was worse than even that, though. If it had just been blood, maybe he would have been able to deal with it, but the body parts and pieces of flesh and everything else mixed in was almost too much for the boy to handle.

He wanted to back against the wall, but he realized he'd just get blood on his clothing that way. His other instinct was to move away from it, but for some reason he couldn't bring his legs to lead him forward. For a while, all he could do was stare in morbid fascination.

When the Heartless died, they didn't bleed. It was much cleaner than this. Sora had fought plenty of monsters here, but not on this level. He realized that some other patients had probably done this with their regained powers, but the sight of it bothered him instead of invigorating him. The monsters had done nothing but give them trouble until now, but tearing them apart like this seemed like it was too much.

For once, Sora realized he didn't know what to say.

[inherited]

So this was what the people here were capable of. The blood didn't bother him, but he could sense the relative unease melting off his best friend. He reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. Riku's action was unlike him, because he wasn't keen on this kind of contact, but he knew his friend. In the sight of something so unfamiliar, he didn't know how to deal. It was just another illustration of the differences between them. That wasn't to say that Riku himself was the best at handling blood, but his circumstances with both his replica and Roxas prepared him for far worse things.

What was a little blood of monsters, in comparison?

He pulled his hand away from Sora and took point, realizing that it might help right now. "We'll need to be careful for another reason," he said with a glance back toward both Kratos and Sora. "Not everyone they have here is good. Some of them ... they might even be relishing the sight of all this blood." That was even too cold, too twisted for anyone in the Organization; none of them even hurt people just because they could.

With that note made, Riku extended his hand and summoned back his keyblade. If he was right, it might be necessary. Tonight, things wouldn't fade into Darkness once they struck them; they would die. Tonight, Sora's keyblade would be graced with something else. He just hoped his friend could handle it.

[zanuff]

[ from here ]

Considering how Chipp's extremely loud and unnecessary entrance must have alerted every monster within a 50 foot radius of his presence, he still seemed unnecessarily happy when one of the creatures prowling the areas caught sight of him... and then attempted to drop down on him. Chipp prided himself on fast reflexes and with his Ki, there was no way any monster could surprise him like that. So he certainly looked gleeful when the creature smashed its face into the ground, struggling to regain itself while Chipp readied himself in his battle stance.

"Damn, that thing is ugly! GYOZA!!!"

He didn't even give the spider a chance to right itself before he charged at it, smashing its back with his elbow and then following up with a quick strike with his hand. That ax really was no replacement for his blade, but his quick movements allowed even a weapon like that to slice up parts of the spider's body, making the creature scream in pain. He didn't even know spiders could scream! Before it could get any louder, Chipp finished off his combo with a fierce heeldrop that smashed the spider's face right back onto the ground. And this time, there was no struggle to get back up.

"Not even a problem... Hey, Venom! The way's clear!"

Chipp liked to think that he was helping, even in the worst of situations.

[anemptydecapo]

"It's not Aguilar we want," came what must have been a pitifully quiet response in comparison to Zanuff's constant shouting. As quick as the assassin could move with the assistance of his Magic, it still took a moment before he could regain the distance the ninja had put in between them--

"Kch..."

Venom's feet slid to a halt. He'd understood that everyone here would be put upon with as much force and pressure as the asylum could muster, that they'd send those demons out in full force. He hadn't taken into account just how... frail those monsters were now. How powerful they themselves were. Blood was strewn onto every conceivable surface, entrails lined the floors like grotesque, forgotten decorations and he could feel his stomach twisting in on itself at the sight. He'd just caught up with the other man in time to see even him demolish the over-grown spider in their way, his words reflecting what was obviously true to most everyone here: not even a problem.

He'd spent the last two weeks nearly being killed again and again due to these creatures and now they were just disgusting smears on the wall. A part of him wanted to be sympathetic and claim his bout of hesitance was in regard to that, but side of him that was steeped firmly in spite knew better. This wasn't sympathy for demons, just revulsion at their corpses.

The assassin again ended up shaking his head to himself, powering forward and away from the mess. "Follow me," he called out, Magic and disgust pushing himself just fast enough to not have to touch the soiled tile below. Perhaps the next hall would be neater.

[To here]

[thatdemonbitch.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1184855.html?thread=80860759#t80860759) ]

"Think there's a snowball's chance in Hell of anybody out there having a better idea of what's going on?" It seemed worth checking into -- if she couldn't get some face time with Sam and drill him about the angel, she could at least figure out what the hell was going on in this institute.

Though, now that she thought about it, the fact that Dean was putting up with her hanging around at all was pretty telling about what Castiel's righteousness had or hadn't spilled the beans on. She'd count her blessings for now as she stepped out into the hallway, flashlight darting in the direction of the main halls, back the way she'd come.

"If I'm even in the ballpark on this code red, things could get ugly." She raised an eyebrow at Dean, silently questioning if he'd come prepared. The gaze wasn't concerned so much as criticizing. "People are gonna need help."

[kindalikedit]

Dean stepped into the hall and stepped into something straight out of a horror movie or something - gore splattered all over the place, his boot squelching in something that was either something's guts or puke plus guts plus do-I-really-want-to-know. He lifted his boot and grimaced.

"Think it's already on the way there," Dean said. His hand ghosted back to the hilt of his bowie knife as he turned with his flashlight, trying to find what might be responsible. "Hope that wasn't a person," he added, for a moment forgetting who he was talking to.

He glanced up. Oh, yeah. Right. Ruby. Annoyed he'd almost classified her as a person, Dean cleared his throat and took a big, careful step over a pile of more gore. It wasn't the worst he'd ever seen, but it was starting to get there and he had to hold his breath because whatever the stuff was, it was going rank enough to make his eyes sting. He made it to the middle of the hall when he heard a snuffling behind them. The gore on the floor made it hard to pick out the click of claws on tile and by the time Dean turned around, the three dogs were close enough he could see that soft glow of their eyes.

Didn't seem like these were responsible for splattering all that crap on the ceiling. For all he knew they were just homing in on a free meal. Dean took a careful, slow step back, glancing sidelong at Ruby without turning his head.

"Better hope you're dog-proof," he said, and meant it.

A piece of rotting skin hung off the lead dog's jaws as it licked its fangs, a string of drool dripping down as it snarled. Without warning the dog to its left suddenly burst free of its little back and made right for Ruby, kicking up gore as it charged the demon.

[heroesdontshave]

[from here]

Snow quickened his pace as he moved through the door and hurried down the hallway. He didn't like this. Not at all. Normally, the monsters here weren't all that active. So what the hell was going on? Was this actually what Code Red was supposed to be? Flood a bunch of monsters into the building to kill everyone? That was the plan? What the hell were they thinking?!

Well, he already pretty much knew what they were thinking. It was only a matter of time before they went and did something like this anyway. Not like they really gave a damn what happened to any of them to begin with, and it didn't really look like the whole cultivated l'Cie army plan was going all that smooth for them. Still, Snow hadn't expected mass execution by monster...

He was a little torn, to be honest. Chances were, Lightning was with Serah and Hope, and he needed to find out where the hell they were being kept. Let them and everyone else being held in wherever go. That should have been his priority. But at the same time, it's not like he could just ignore what was going on to everyone else in this place right now. He should be helping out in whatever way he could before people got hurt.

And what was the best way to do that? Look for the army leader guy and his lackeys who liked running their mouths off on the intercom? Look for where the hell the monsters were coming in from? He had no idea. Nor was he gonna stand around and try to figure it out. There wasn't time. Only time to move and react. Everything else, he'd figure out on the way.

[ofthemotions]

[from here]

Mikado stepped out into gore. And panic rose before anything else. Call him a desensitized youth, but it wasn't that it made him sick to see and smell all this. It more gave him a quiet panic--the kind that would make him want to slowly and quietly move somewhere unseen so the whatever that did this did not notice him. He swallowed thickly, wondering if he made a mistake. His sneaker scuffed against tile and blood and caught on something that gave beneath him. Bile rose in his throat, and he supposed he wasn't as desensitized as he thought.

His hand closed over his mouth as much to staunch the smell that was now making him sick as to muffle the quiet whimper that fled from his chest. All right. He had left his room, was going to find out answers, and likely die before anything really happened that mattered, wasn't he? Were these parts human, or something else? He hadn't even really accomplished anything in life. He was still just a nobody, just a player in the game and no one that even mattered.

It was choking, more than the texture beneath his shoes and the smell in the air. Because he was not going to die with only an ordinary life behind him. No, he would find out something, and get somewhere, and--

He rubbed his face, as if the movement prompted determination, and strode forward quickly before he could think to hesitate.

Of course... Doing so brought him into the path of a very large, very adamant man.

[full-score.livejournal.com]

((From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189014.html?thread=80924310#t80924310).))

As they quickly walked through the hallway, though, nothing could have prepared Claude for the bloodbath waiting for them. His pace faltered the moment his light fell upon the slick blood that drenched the area. Another glance around quickly revealed some of the nearby monster corpses.

"Wh-what the hell happened here?" His voice was quiet enough to avoid drawing extra attention to themselves, but his shocked tone wasn't any less muted. Claude had never seen anything like this, much less so close to the patient blocks. Was all this carnage from some of the patients?

Either way, he doubted this would be the last of it. All this blood was bound to attract other monsters. Claude glanced over toward Guy. "We need to be careful..."

[nobleman]

The idea that the pink sheen was some sort of force field actually made a lot of sense, and Guy had seen similar things during his travels back on Auldrant. There was an easy way to test that, of course, but that could always wait until after they had met up with Anise.

Though as they continued down the hall, they walked onto a scene that Guy could only describe as chilling. It wasn't that he hadn't cut monsters apart with his sword before, but there was a large amount of blood that seemed to cover every inch of the floor and walls that he laid eyes on.

"Guess some people got a little carried away," he replied to Claude's question as he forced out a sigh. His initial shock managed to wear off pretty quickly. "The problem is... this is where I told Luke I would meet him." Guy started forward, getting closer to the door that led out of his friend's block of rooms. It looked like Luke hadn't made it here yet, which wasn't too shocking since this would be his first night dealing with all of this. Why did it have to be a night like this, when they barely knew what was going on? Guy was sure that Tear would watch him closely, but it still left Guy feeling uneasy.

[touchedgod.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1184626.html?thread=80932978#t80932978).]

This night, it wasn't as disturbing to not be alone. Old habits die hard, though. He avoided the congregating groups floating in the hallway, all tied up in their own conversations, and looked like a man with business to tend to. Only an unlit silhouette in the darkness, Billy imagined he was able to slip through the hallway almost invisibly. But people schooled for a reason, and the dark cavelike halls may as well have been filled with water for all the weight on Billy's shoulders. He didn't school, and moving solo was more apropos for one named squid prophet. That's what other might have thought, but it was only the last vestiges of mimicry.

After that, the truth blurred. He was not, but he was, because he pretended and others believed. He knew the truth, though, and it seemed to keep the inevitable divinity at bay. The squid he had touched wasn't a god at all. It was just another rotten corpse, like every other he had bottled at the behest of an angel he had been oblivious to. Billy wondered if the angel was embarrassed. Billy was embarrassed. He wasn't going to complain and tell it to find someone worthy or some such, and it was a little ridiculous to think he was the greatest of its concerns.

The new hallway was so busy that there was no longer any reason not to have his flashlight on. The dark seemed to highlight him as the one figure that did not glow. Billy wasn't a predator, and clicked on his light to blend in with the locals.

[timedork]

[From here]

By the time he'd exited the block hall, it became obvious that things were different than usual. There were a few people lingering while others moved, but usually there wasn't so much blood. Nor was there usually the distinct odor of something having been burnt to a crisp. Or signs of scattered fights.

Something in the Doctor's stomach sunk, or perhaps turned, and he turned his torch to see what had died here.

But before he could identify the blood and remains blown across the floor and walls, however, he spotted something far more pressing: a group of four oversized scorpions. They weren't even close the largest he'd ever seen, but certainly much, much larger than your common Earth varieties—and headed straight for him. He spun on his heel and ran.

—Up until he almost collided with a figure who hadn't clicked on his torch until just seconds ago. He swerved, coming to an awkward halt and then looking back at his pursuers. The run from the other end of the hall had put some distance between him and the scorpion gang, but they were still coming—and coming quickly.

He didn't exactly want to stand around and wait for them, but he couldn't just leave the man he'd practically led the scorpions straight to: if the other didn't get a move on, it seemed just as likely they'd change their target as keep following the Doctor.

Keeping his light trained on the approaching scorpions, he asked the man, "Can you run? Because now would be a good time to."

[saviored]

[from here]

Alaric's running footsteps were clearly audible. Damon let him catch up. Why not? He knew why Rick had gone after him and while he wasn't interested in hearing it, he also didn't care enough to go out of his way to dodge the guy.

He could use the company. Even when bitching, Alaric was more tolerable than most of the population.

"I never need to do half the things I do, Rick. Anyway, what's the big deal? He'll be back on his feet tomorrow none the wiser."

Provided the compulsion stuck beyond tonight. If the device—which he assumed was either switched off or broken—came back on, it may or may not affect a few things. How should he know how that worked? Oh, well. They'd better hope not, for Klavier's sake.

Some other time, he'd have said more—about the crossbow; the stabbing; other innocuous topics of conversation—but he was distracted. The distinct smell of blood that only grew stronger to the point where even Rick had to notice. Overwhelmingly so, even. It was thick. He could taste it in the air. Not in a pleasant way, either. He couldn't hear anything, though, not nearby. Just smell it. If someone had had a party, it'd obviously ended.

When he shoved open the doors out of the block, he got an eyeful of his answer. His steps slowed, then paused as he blinked at the scene. It wasn't just blood splattered across the walls, it was everything. Pretty sure he saw the ragged remains of a paw stuck to the floor there.

Well, then.

He glanced over his shoulder at Alaric as he circled around the largest portion of the mess.

"So what do you think the ratio of supernatural to human around here is?"

Yup. Definitely time to find Elena and his brother.

[deathandgin]

The big deal was pretty freaking self-evident. Hell, only half of it was about the fact the blond had been fed off of. (Okay, most of it. But in the grand scheme of things, even Alaric had to admit this wasn't the worst Damon could do.) It was the whole. Trapped thing. People showing up with neck wounds wasn't going to stay especially secret for long, and considering there were other vampires here -

"What is that?" Whatever they were getting closer to, it smelled like roadkill. A dump entirely made out of roadkill.

The doors opened and a wave of it hit him, making him gag instinctively, choked by the smell. Everywhere his flashlight hit was painted black-red, wet and shining and dripping. The tufts - chunks, really, flesh still attached - of fur told him that it wasn't human intestines and blood and everything in between, but that didn't make it much better. Oh god. Those were shards of bones. That's. Excellent.

Alaric shook his head abruptly, pushing past Damon to get the hell out of this gore-fest.

[To here.]

[toxicspiderman]

[from here]

The floor, walls, and a bit of the ceiling of the hallway looked like the outtakes of a slasher film. S.T. had smelled worse. Most of this was fresh. It only took a few molecules of putrescine to short out the part of the brain that kept the gag reflex under conscious control, even with a normal nose, but all of this was fresh. Correction -- most of it. He swallowed hard, and thanked experience.

"The cell blocks are usually pretty quiet. Four of them, three for guys and one for women." He ticked off the directions to each as he talked. "Looks like tonight is special on all counts. Lucky you."

New night, new freakshow. About the only thing that was constant. "Everyone here has been kidnapped. Except the bastards running the show, and even there I'm not sure." Doyleton didn't work. The small-town gig was spray-painted on a bunch of zombies (literal, not some kind of nihilistic analogy), but the supply chain looked like Earth. Everything being trucked in via transporter beam made more sense. "You, me, everybody. Either your brothers have been, and they're playing angry monster bait like you were, or they're back home, hearing some bullshit story about how you flipped out and got yourself committed."

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

Crazy? No. So far everything had been pretty par for the course. Weird things happened to him and his brothers so often you could set your watch to it. Call it karma, call it Turtle Luck, but most of Raph's teenage life has only proved that being a mutant freak doesn't make you the weirdest thing out there.

When they entered the hallway, he'd been expecting chaos, but the amount of gore that covered the floor and walls was enough to make him grimace. He's seen death before. He's seen plenty of violence and war, but this? This looked like a freakin' massacre.

"Jeez," he mumbled under his breath, trying to pay attention to the info his new tour guide was spouting as they picked their way through the mess. Still, his body wouldn't cooperate. It felt like being a kid again, awkwardly stumbling through the movements of a new kata. Only instead of his father's walking stick, he had hell-knows-what lurking around every corner, waiting for him to slip up.

"I know they're here," Raph said, adamant. Nothing this guy said would change his mind about that. Not until after he tore the place apart looking for them. "We all got attacked by those freak-o wooden ninjas. There's no way they would want just me." And there's no way the others could've gotten away when he didn't. They were all having just as hard of a time fighting them off as he was.

As he thought about his brothers, just a moment's lapse in focus caused him to lose his footing in a puddle of something. He stuck a hand out to catch himself on a wall smeared with what both looked and smelled like roadkill. "Ugh! You've gotta be kidding me!"

Further down the hall, something inhuman skittered through the carnage.

So maybe throwing a hissy fit in a place overrun with monsters wasn't the best of ideas, but he'd given up on stealth a while ago. At this point he was too pissed off to care.

[savagestray.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1184626.html)]

The hall was already full of people, heading determinedly this way or that and ignoring most everything else. The difference though, between last night and tonight, was the much heavier scent of blood in the air, tension, a feeling of being watched.

Worry wasn't something he wasted time on, though each nerve was on edge, waiting, should anything decide to pounce. Heine stayed out of the way, brushing to one side or the other when people passed him as he continued.

[savagestray.livejournal.com]

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1186187.html?thread=81005195#t81005195)]

[forgot-it-all.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189605.html?thread=81009125#t81009125)]

Things...were different tonight. He couldn't place his finger on it right away, but as soon as he entered this hall, he knew. People were fighting all over the Institute and it seemed a bit like chaos - only the people were winning for once. While he was happy that so few were getting injured, the sight of so many dead monsters turned his stomach. The patients here were no better than the creatures they slaughtered, he supposed. For survival, people dirtied their hands.

For survival, people killed.

And yet, the patients seemed to be enjoying it in a way. Like they thought killing the monsters was a way to get back at their captors. Ritsuka frowned as he edged around the remains of the dead and dying, wanting to avert his eyes and yet forcing himself to see. This was how people were. He had to remember that. He had to remember. ...He had to remember.

With that thought running through his mind, he kept running.

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=81009457#t81009457)]

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

If the hall behind was gory, this one was even worse! Sechs dashed past the carnage, the blood from his past kills still dripping profusely off his axe and machete, leaving a trail to add to the growing mass of dead monsters.

The stench from all the death and destruction burned Sechs' nostrils, but he was too high in his empowered state to care. He was no longer weak, and he wasn't the only one. To him, the institute was finally being overthrown, and he didn't want to miss a second of it. If he was going to help with this bloody revolution, he was going to the center of it all. The loudest and brightest signs of a big fight were just up ahead in the main hall...

Something huge and black suddenly pounced into the far corner of Sechs' sight. An enormous cat had made a leap for him but missed, yet it kept its chase behind, its claws skidding on the stained floor.

Smirking, Sechs slowed his pace down until the giant feline was close enough to make a strike. Yet before the cat could reach out a paw, the Replica jumped back, his back arched in the air as he flew over his pursuer. In those few seconds, Sechs' machete flew out and slashed the air with blinding speed. Once he had flipped over and landed not far from behind the feline, it seemed nothing had happened. While Sechs straightened up from his landing, the cat had frozen on the spot, it seemed unharmed yet its glowing eyes had gone dead. Then, a multitude of lines grew all over the feline's body, trickling out blood before bursting out in a cascade of entrails and chopped flesh. The Replica's supersonic attack had cut through the cat's entire form like it was nothing more than processed lunch meat.

The android gave out another cackle of victory. Having only just warmed up, Sechs continued his violent rampage towards the heat of the night's uprising, leaving the cat in thick, bloody pieces in his wake.

[girlsandgadgets]

[From here.]

As Edgar neared the main hallway that he found his need for haste was not without grounding: the southern corridor was caked in blood, the pink glow on the walls bathing the hall in a more crimson light than that in the rooms. He was stunned for a moment: though violence was nothing new for him, it was certainly a first to see such a sight in Landel's. Emergency, indeed- but what had caused it?

With his flashlight, Edgar knelt to inspect a corpse that sat along one of the walls- one of the creatures that roamed the halls at night had met with an unfortunate end. Had a patient done this, then? He hadn't seen enough of the monsters to know if they'd attack one another, but given the amount of control over them and the patients, it didn't seem likely. He'd heard that the brainwashed patients who were taken for "special counseling" were pitted against their friends at night, sometimes given their abilities back- perhaps one regained their memories and was running amok. He had yet to witness such a thing for himself, but there had to be some validity to the claim, as it was made again and again over the board and through word-of-mouth.

He wiped sweat from his brow as he stood, putting a hand to his chest- there was that discomfort again, the feeling all too familiar. He had to keep moving, and hopefully find Terra before she wandered off. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.

[girlsandgadgets]

[To here.]