damned_institute | Day 65: Music Room (Third Shift)

He must have been reading the bulletin board for longer than he thought, because it seemed like he had barely started conversing with the woman before the intercom crackled to life again to announce the beginning of a new shift. The Once-ler settled on a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, and asked his nurse about the Music Room that had been mentioned.

A part of him had been hoping for a chance to relax by having a good old guitar session; such hopes were quickly dashed as it became apparent that the Music Room lacked the necessary instrument. And based on the posters that decorated the walls, he assumed that the CDs provided would not fit his more contemporary tastes. Rather than bothering to search the collection while supporting himself on his crutch (he was starting to really grow tired of it), the Once-ler settled down into a comfortable chair in the center of the room.

Having a bagged lunch, combined with the presence of recorders in the room, made the whole setting take on a school-like vibe. Still, any food was better than nothing, and his appetite was reasserting itself again after a fairly unsatisfying breakfast.

[awaiting Skulduggery]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was such a strange feeling, not being able to get enough air. It was vaguely familiar in the same way that seeing old acquaintances from years ago was vaguely familiar, but it was new enough that Skulduggery could feel a genuine panic bubbling up. A small and detached part of himself experienced it all with a calm and cold intellectual interest, noting how the edges of his vision were starting to fade and his head was starting to feel light. Anything the Once-ler was saying got lost in the haze.

And then, finally, something large and filthy dislodged itself from his throat. And for what felt like the third time in just days, Skulduggery gulped down the fresh air with an infuriating gratitude that, once again, his fragile life had been spared.

After a few moments to make sure breathing had become second nature again, Skulduggery - with some difficulty - spat out whatever had made its way into his mouth, and... stared down at it in disgust.

It was a large hairball, of the exact same hair that had surrounded and nearly choked him to death the night before.

"Please," he almost pleaded with the Once-ler, "tell me this isn't normal."

The Once-ler was about to get up and find one of the nurses to help when Skulduggery finally coughed up whatever it was that had lodged in his throat. Relief soon turned to disgust when he saw exactly what had caused the blockage. And he had been somewhat enjoying his meal, too. He would have remained speechless in revulsion if Skulduggery had done likewise, but the man seemed to be practically begging for some assurance that this didn’t happen every time someone swallowed.

“Where I’m from, that’s not normal. Don’t know about here because last night I saw a brainwashed guy make a ton of illusions of himself while using me as his personal pincushion and a girl with an absurd amount of glowing hair, but where I come from that is definitely not normal.” He spoke rapidly, his voice higher pitched than normal. The expression on his face matched the disgust in his voice.

Ah. Perhaps a much more eventful first night, then.

'Brainwashed guy' caught Skulduggery's attention first and foremost. That was the more pressing concern for him. Badd and Yomi had each mentioned the brainwashing phenomenon. Skulduggery was worried about exactly how much Landel knew about his past, and how exactly this brainwashing process worked. The phrase 'glowing hair,' however, didn't pass by unnoticed.

"Do you remember-" Skulduggery began slowly, stopping when, with a loud crunch, something was suddenly resting uncomfortably between his teeth.

A horrible feeling gripped him, but Skulduggery reached up to pull the object out nonetheless. And sure enough, it wasn't simply an innocent piece of chicken. It was a lone fingernail, crusted with dried blood, identical to the ones that had scraped across Skulduggery's face last night.

Skulduggery's face didn't change, but his entire body stiffened. Without a word, the former skeleton dropped the fingernail and the sandwich back into the paper bag and dropped it onto the floor by the chair. He glanced up at the Once-ler, and when he spoke, the disgust was possibly even more evident than it had been before.

"I am never," he said quietly, "eating food again."

The Once-ler watched Skulduggery with a mixture of horror and confusion as the man began talking again, only to stop abruptly and pull something out from his teeth. All confusion drained from the Once-ler’s face as he saw just what had been in his companion’s mouth.

A bloody fingernail. The Once-ler’s stomach dropped.

It didn’t matter that Skulduggery’s face remained unchanging, since the Once-ler was now displaying enough disgust and revulsion for both parties. The hairball had been very unpleasant, but this was a whole new level of unhygienic. And while there clearly had been no hair in the sandwich before Skulduggery had started eating, a fingernail was much smaller and could have accidentally wound up in a meal.

He stared at the fingernail, then at Skulduggery, back to the nail, down at his sandwich, and finally at Skulduggery again. Then, eyes not leaving Skulduggery’s face, he wordlessly dropped the half-eaten sandwich on the floor beside his chair.

His throat was dry. For one horrifying moment, Skulduggery prepared to swallow back whatever new terror he'd be coughing up, before he remembered that it was a perfectly normal human reaction.

"Word of advice," he managed to say, a slight croak to his voice that hadn't been there in centuries - mainly because of the lack of a throat to become dry. "If you're ever traveling through the Sun Room at night, and it seems a little too dark, run."

That would certainly be the plan for himself and Rita tonight. The library door hadn't even been that far away, but if running full-pelt was useless, then neither of them were going to take the chance again.

His voice was constricted as he replied. "Sun Room gets dark, get the heck out of dodge. Got it." The Once-ler wasn't quite sure what that had to do with the unpleasant surprises in the lunch food, but after the painful encounter with Lingormr last night he wasn't about to ignore the advice of someone more experienced with this place.

He was still holding the lunch bag and juice box. While the juice itself seemed perfectly fine, he wasn't going to risk it, and there was no way he was touching the brownie with a ten-foot pole now.

This time, the Once-ler set the offending food items down, and nudged them aside with his foot. He was going to swear off eating for a while.

Day 65: Music Room (Third Shift)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject