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damned_institute2011-12-18 02:51 pm
ninelivesonce) wrote in damned_institute2011-12-18 02:51 pm
Nightshift 60: Main Hallway, 2-West
[from here]
Taura peeked out of the stairwell door with the first evidence of caution she'd shown all night. Everything looked quiet, but that didn't mean much of anything.
They'd met here the last time she'd come up to head into that room, and that thing had come out of the walls. She didn't want to wait around anywhere, but especially not here. She was glad they were meeting a little further down the hallway. It didn't make it safer, but she'd fought enough battles to earn a little superstition.
Every soldier had a few. Didn't matter if they were religious or so fanatically committed to the opposite opinion that it almost qualified, they gathered superstitions like an air filter gathered dust. When you risked your life every day, anything that seemed to stand between you and the darkness shone like a beacon. She'd learned to forgive her fellow soldiers their foibles quickly; and then after her first real mission she'd understood. A fussy method of attaching a helmet was both a safety measure and a ritual -- doing something the same way every time kept people from forgetting it, and every time they came back alive cemented it.
Taura peeked out of the stairwell door with the first evidence of caution she'd shown all night. Everything looked quiet, but that didn't mean much of anything.
They'd met here the last time she'd come up to head into that room, and that thing had come out of the walls. She didn't want to wait around anywhere, but especially not here. She was glad they were meeting a little further down the hallway. It didn't make it safer, but she'd fought enough battles to earn a little superstition.
Every soldier had a few. Didn't matter if they were religious or so fanatically committed to the opposite opinion that it almost qualified, they gathered superstitions like an air filter gathered dust. When you risked your life every day, anything that seemed to stand between you and the darkness shone like a beacon. She'd learned to forgive her fellow soldiers their foibles quickly; and then after her first real mission she'd understood. A fussy method of attaching a helmet was both a safety measure and a ritual -- doing something the same way every time kept people from forgetting it, and every time they came back alive cemented it.
[m-u effects]
.... But even after saying that to himself, Byrne didn't budge. He couldn't, not after something strange crossed his field of vision at that moment, something walking towards the chapel. The prosecutor stared dumbly at the sight. Was he seeing things?
No, he wasn't seeing things, was he? He couldn't be. There was a black-haired little girl in a long white robe across the way there, her figure glowing in an almost heavenly way, and he was damn sure she was real. Who was that girl? And what why was she here, of all places?
Oh, right, maybe he should be telling Badd about this, since he kind of agreed to tell him everything he saw and all. "Badd? Badd, what's that girl doing over there?" He pointed to her just as she vanished into the chapel. "Is she...wait..."
His voice trailed off as his mind came to a horrible realization. He knew it now. That girl. That girl was--!
"Kay!?" he suddenly shouted, eyes widening in a panic. At that moment, Badd stopped existing to him. Only Kay mattered, and she'd just gone into that chapel without him.
And so Byrne started sprinting for the chapel, leaving his partner behind.
[Running away without you to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1219174.html?thread=81920614#t81920614)...]