damned_institute | Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

[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.

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"Eh--?" Goku's pupils closed when the small beam of light crossed his face and fended off a nasty creature trying to get one up on him. With a word, his nyoibo grew in length and Goku swung out like a hitter at home plate. The thin staff made contact with its brittle shoulder and sent it flying into the nearest wall.

"Hee hee, peace!" He chittered just before it hit. There was the sound of breaking bone against a hard surface, but a blood smear was the only damage made to the walls. Goku found that rather odd. Apparently his technique wasn't cutting it tonight. He was just going to have to work harder!

It was down to two and two--Well, more like two to one since the other necrit never made it back up on its legs. The last monster standing was all Spock's; Goku waddled over to check on the injured one, not sure if he should just let it lie or put it out of its misery. He had killed quite a few creatures and injured far more, but he had rarely ever seen one this beat up and couldn't recover. It kept making terrible whining noises that crushed Goku's heart like a giant fist.

The creature was paralyzed by his flashlight, leaving Goku to check on its injured companion. Spock would have been satisfied to leave them alive, but he also realized that any other patients who passed through this hallway wouldn't be safe in that case. They couldn't prevent the military from unleashing anymore hostile lifeforms, but they could try to control their numbers to the best of their ability.

It was for that reason that he delivered a swift, precise kick to the creature's neck, mercifully ending its life within a split second. Once it collapsed onto the floor, the Vulcan turned toward the boy, who was standing over the injured being.

...He wasn't wearing any pants, Spock observed with a raised eyebrow. Somehow, that didn't surprise him as much as it probably should have. He would have asked about the circumstances behind his current attire, but now was hardly the time.

"Goku," he quietly said, approaching him. "It is unwise to stay here for much longer."

"But..." Goku looked behind him to find Spock, a conflicted frown darkening his usually peaceful, albeit vacant, face. The boy's hands gripped his stiff tightly as he worried the painted wood awkwardly.

"I dunno what ta do," he confessed. His big black eyes went back to the injured monster on the floor. It flailed without any kind of plan or destination. All it knew was that it needed to get away from the pain.

It probably sounded very unusual from a boy who lived only to fight, but this wasn't a fight any longer. Goku appreciated a fair fight and this was no longer one. The creature couldn't even get back on its feet, let alone defend itself. Killing here wasn't necessary. It had lost, there was no reason to continue, but it didn't feel right to leave. He had never experienced pain like this. Was it treatable? Shouldn't it be able to walk it off like most of his opponents and run for cover?

"It keeps crying..." And Goku wasn't sure what to do.

Spock crouched down beside Goku, examining the wounded creature. As he suspected, it was too wounded to move much. He hadn't intended to deliver such painful injuries, but the Vulcan hadn't realized the full extent of his returned strength until it was too late. It had been a careless mistake.

The boy was understandably unsettled by the creature's suffering. Despite his violent problem-solving methods, Goku was still apparently capable of respecting life. That was not a weakness, but when clouded by emotions it could bring a person to prolong unnecessary suffering.

"It is in pain," Spock agreed, his voice calm and even. "If you leave, I will see to it."

Edited 2011-11-03 01:22 (UTC)

"See to it?" Goku wasn't sure what that implied exactly. Spock was smart, though. A lot smarter than him. The monkey boy's expertise lay only in eating and fighting. This was neither one of those things. If the strange, pointy-eared man said to leave it up to him, Goku saw no reason to say no. He'd fix the problem the right way!

After one last look at the poor creature, the young boy turned around and waddled off, away from Spock and the corpses that had fallen all around them. He bid his friend farewell with a "Peace!" and quickly scooted down the hallway on little bare legs, his tail twitching back and forth without a care.

It wasn't long before his voice could be heard howling and beating at some new and unlucky monster that landed between him and his destination.

[To here]

Spock returned the goodbye with a small nod and watched Goku disappear further down the hallway. Once the boy was out of sight, he returned his attention to the injured creature. In all likelihood, it would suffer here until either another life form devoured it, a patient decided to kill it, or the military disposed of it once the night ended. It was unfortunate, but Spock knew what needed to be done.

Although he would have liked to have been more familiar with the creature's anatomy in order to better provide for a painless death, Spock would, unfortunately, have to make his best estimate. He set down his equipment. Mouth faintly tightening, Spock reached down with pale hands and held the crying being in place. Then, with a swift movement and a faint crunch, he twisted its neck. It grew silent and fell still.

He waited a moment to make certain it had breathed its last.

When he was satisfied that the creature was no longer suffering, Spock reached for his equipment and stood. With the current danger, remaining in place any longer could prove dangerous -- not just for himself, but for the crew waiting for him.

((To here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80863281#t80863281).))

Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

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LOL DARK GRIM

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