Night 59: West Wing, North Hall 1-A

[tightsofmight]

[From here.]

Did that just happen?

Peter slowed as he entered the safety of the outer hall (safety, really?), turning back to boggle at the door behind him. What - no. No way the cat monsters were that frail. Landel's did not work like that. Nothing was ever that easy here. They didn't get treated, they got tricked. Heart pounding, he checked the hall up and down. Once certain that he was alone, Peter pressed a shaking hand to the wall. Stick.

And it did.

His jaw did drop then. Peter was still for a moment. Switched off his flashlight and tied the pillowcase over his shoulder, then pressed both his hands to the wall. Then his feet. Then up further, rising up and up, then gravity flipped and he was staring down at the floor.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Was that the power the pink had granted him? The limits were off? Peter clung to the ceiling, the pillowcase settled on his stomach as he crawled upside down. His heart was beating. He was afraid. He was going to drop any minute. They were going to take it away. Or what if this was another challenge like the Coliseum? Something worse was in store because of this?

He almost stopped entirely. Then he thought of Jessica.

"No no no, she's gotta - maybe..."

Peter Parker was all but invisible in the pitch black hallway, crawling higher than most flashlights dared to venture as he found the exit.

[To here.]

Comments

[ryuuzaki]

"Code 1-8? Yes." L didn't say anything more; he didn't want to detail the way the soldiers had immobilized him, didn't want to focus on the renewed sense of helplessness. The reports he had witnessed and collected suggested that it wasn't likely that the drug would have a lasting effect, unless the substance remained dormant in a subject's system after the first twelve to twenty-four hours and could reactivate at some later point. That would remain to be seen.

He continued to pick his way through the corridor, making steady progress towards the door. There were more complete corpses here than there had been at the other end... the blackened remains of something large and insectoid, what looked like a large cat with a crushed skull, and then more thorough destruction, as if the creatures in question had almost been liquified. The toe of his boot kicked something small and hard, which shot away and hit the wall.

"Seeing it... hm. No, it wasn't anything as concrete as that. It's hard to explain, but it was a feeling--a certainty that such a device exists somewhere in the Institute. It's small, but powerful, and I became aware of its existence without anything to prompt or justify the knowledge."

He opened the heavy door, allowing a rush of fresh, chilly air into the corridor--an icy, earthy scent that was an immediate relief in comparison to the foulness they'd just passed through. It had rained for much of the day, and looked like it would rain again; that meant that the grass would be slick, and that the ground was likely to be muddy. They would have to watch their footing. As to the pink glow, it was still everywhere, lighting the sky down to the tops of the walls that limned the field, and lighting the walls themselves.

He took deep breaths as he scanned the field for immediate danger, and hefted the brush axe in his hand, making sure his grip was good. When he was sure that the area seemed clear, and sure that Lunge would be right behind him, he stepped through the door.

[To here.]