The intercom clicked on and the Head Doctor seemed to be smacking on the remains of his dinner – or maybe dessert.

"Mmf...? ...MMmf!" He seemed to swallow, then continued with: "Sorry about that – I suppose I hit the microphone button a little earlier than I meant to! Ha ha ha... well, anyway, wasn't all of that delicious? Why, the gravy sauce alone–"

Footsteps could be heard walking into his office, along with the slam of a door. A female voice whispered something and the sound of the Head Doctor chewing suddenly stopped.

Although the intercom didn't turn off, the lights began to dim...

The Head Doctor's voice was loud when he finally spoke.

"What? But that's... that's not possible! I saw him, like some kind of... some kind of Frankenstein's monst–"

That same whispering, not loud enough to actually make out over the crackle on the speakers. The Head Doctor's hand slammed against the desk.

"No, no! I can't accept that. There must have been some reason for all of that beyond–"

More whispering. The Head Doctor seemed to interrupt.

"Just– stop that for a second and leave... leave me be."

There was a pause in the dialogue; then, the footsteps sounded again. The door opened, then closed. A moment of silence. The microphone's static faded away and the doors unlocked.

Sam wasn't gonna run off. Dean wasn't giving him the chance to get that far.

Dean threw on his real clothes, tugging them on impatiently as he tried to ignore all the scenarios he could easily come up with - Sam might try to find a way out tonight, maybe look for a car and just say screw the people here and then follow up that winner with I'm gonna kill myself breaking your deal. Not if Dean was gonna have a say about it and man, he had plenty to say about it, even if he was gonna have to slug some common sense back into his brother until he said uncle over the deal. Sam was gonna live, dammit. He wasn't gonna take a dump all over it 'cause he couldn't accept this was just how things needed to go down.

It felt like it took too long to lace up his shoes and make sure everything was squared away in the duffel bag. Dean made sure anyway. He wasn't gonna get his ass kicked just 'cause he couldn't tie his shoes right or he forgot to bring some salt along. There was doing things in a hurry and getting sloppy - maybe he hadn't been exactly at the top of his game since he got here but if he got ganked 'cause he tripped on his own shoelaces, then y'know what, he would've had that coming in a big way.

As soon as he was ready, Dean took off for Sam's room, shutting M2's door behind him and jogging down the hall, the duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Hopefully he'd get to the room and the kid would still be there.

Pissed, maybe, but he'd take pissed over doing something real stupid.

[To here]

Utena tested her flashlight one more time after the lights went out. Still not even a sputter like there had been during the previous two nights. She sighed softly. Sure, Himemiya still had full batteries, so moving around tonight wouldn't be a problem. She knew that she couldn't just ask to borrow the girl's flashlight forever, though; that would just be delaying the problem. It would be best for them to go up to the janitor's closet for extra batteries tonight rather than waiting. Besides, Himemiya still needed something to defend herself with, and the pipes up there were better than nothing at all.

Frankenstein's monster? she thought as she listened to the Head Doctor go on about something on the intercom. That doesn't have something to do with what the transcript from a few nights ago, does it? She shook her head. She didn't have time to think much about it. Opening her closet door, she took out a garbage bag and the Sword of Dios replica. Even in the dark, she could tell the sword looked much better alongside her duelist uniform than it had with "Yomi's" institute clothing. She smiled a little at that.

After bidding a good night to Sakura, Utena stepped out into the hallway, squinting in the dark for Himemiya's room. Which one had it been? She knew it wasn't too far down from hers.

[from here]

Beatrix had walked this path to the Sun Room so many times, she could do it in complete darkness. Which was exactly what she was doing. Knowing the way, there was little need for light as it would only draw creatures and other unwanted attention. Silently counting her steps, at the right number, the assassin headed left and down the hallway.

[to here]

[from here]

And of course she was the firs to arrive. It was becoming a common occurrence.

Leaning back against the wall next to the Sun Room doors, Beatrix waited and listened to the silence of the hall. While detecting HK-47 would be difficult, she was certain Lugnut would be pathetically easy to hear coming. She was not thrilled with the idea of another Cybertronia joining them, but she could not deny that without SubZero, they had to take measures to secure their passage to Landel.

Lugnut wanted her dead, she recalled. This was going to be like working with the Vipers again. The only difference? The Bride had no ties at all to Lugnut. Then again, perhaps he understood how outclassed he was. She could only hope HK-47 had given him proper warning. Beatrix was even less thrilled with the idea of securing a hostage so she and the droid could pass through the doors.

[F22]

No, Falis didn't want to wear the dress. Okay, maybe she liked the crown and the dress was nice (for a white frilly princess dress), but she wasn't doing anything where the dress would have any impact. She was a bounty hunter and, in this place, being a princess held no weight. Her sword, her accomplishments, her strength - that was what counted, not her title or ability to fight amazingly well in a white frilly dress. Milano always said it was entrancing to watch her fight in it, but that didn't matter here, right?

To be truthful, Falis was a little - no, a lot - irritated that it was the dress she'd been given and not her bounty hunter clothes. In a place like this, they were much more practical and the dark colors wouldn't draw attention. Not that Falis cared about attention from either other people or monsters, but she was hunting vampires and she was eventually going to be laying in wait for that one bloodsucker. The grey outfit was a better choice for something like that than the white dress.

Whatever. She was pretty sure Hokuto and Namine would like the dress and... maybe she'd put it on for them once, twice at most, if she was talked into it.

Sitting on her desk were the two jugs of moonshine plus two cups and an empty can that could be used as a cup. She wasn't sure how many people Kagura was bringing, so the can was there if needed (she'd be the one using it). Cracking open one jug of moonshine, Falis took a sip and her eyebrow twitched a little. Okay, the stuff was definitely strong enough and the flavor was passable with the apples she'd used. She'd made much better stuff in the past with Dominikov and Pete, but for the resources she had at her disposal, this wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

On the hunter's bed was the bag of crafty shit she'd gotten for that charm thing Orihime had wanted to make. Sitting down next to them, Falis waited for her guests to arrive. To pass the time, she ripped a piece of sheet off and started cleaning her sword.

"Hzhwzut?!" Scott jerked awake, unconsciously kicking the blanket off his bed as the intercom crackled out and the door clicked open. He lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling with groggy, half-open eyes. 

How long had he slept? Scott tried to remember. He vaguely recalled being woken on the couch in the Sun Room and told to stop snoring. When he thought hard enough, he could hear a nurse in his mind, telling him to come along for dinner. Even the prospect of food hadn't been enough to keep him from falling right back asleep, apparently. Why had he been so tired all of a sudden? It almost felt as though Christmas had come and sucker punched him in the face. Usually only copious amounts of turkey could make him so tired. Well, during the day, anyway. 

Funnily enough, he could smell cold turkey somewhere nearby. Scott narrowed his eyes. "I'm on to your game, Landel." 

Scott sat up quickly and immediately regretted it. "Owowow sleep headache..." He stumbled out of his bed toward the closet. It was night, wasn't it? He was going to need his ass-kicking implements. After changing into his real clothes (and after realizing his shirt was inside out and fixing that), Scott grabbed his pipe, flashlight, and the various little tools he had taken to putting in his jacket pockets. With that all ready, Scott rubbed his eyes, yawned, and headed out for the night.   

[To here]

[from here]

Once out of the female block, Momo hesitated, unsure what she wanted to do. She'd left her room without a thought, her body automatically following the same motions she did every night once she'd secured Laevatein back in its hiding place in her room. She was feeling more comfortable with the broadsword, but there was only so much she could do with it while it was in its current state and she had no one to formally teach her. Celes' tips were certainly appreciated, but Momo was unwilling to ask the general for lessons, feeling as if she'd be imposing. She would just have to adapt her own style.

After a moment of thought, the shinigami headed to the left. She'd only had two options, really. She could have headed to the right and helped with the M-U rescue, but pacing that hallway while waiting for someone to be released from their torture was not something she wanted to do. Instead, she started toward the outside of the Institute.

[to here]

[from here]

Continuing down the hallway toward the outside, Momo decided she would scale the wall and head to the ruined town. It had been several days since she'd been there and she was curious as to what might be found in the other buildings. Her mind was much clearer now than the last time. Perhaps, she could see it in a new light.

Momo knew traveling alone was not the best idea, but she was armed, in her uniform so she blended in well with her surroundings, and she'd be outside where her flashlight would not be needed. She was already on her second set of batteries and needed to preserve what she could. She was fairly sure she'd be alright against any of the Institute's monsters.

Dinner—cake included—sat untouched on the desk, surrounded by her growing collection of colorful origami animals and guarded by her notebook. Her three knives were lined up on the bed in order of size alongside her old outfit, with the wakizashi next to them; the Four Point was propped up carefully on the side of the bed.

Yuffie, hands on her hips, eyed the ensemble critically. It really was gonna be a shame to lose some of this kit, but it was going to a good cause. Her conscience would never allow her to leave her teammates unarmed when she had weapons to spare, no matter what her hoarding instincts had to say about it. She'd just have to suck it up and deal, and make sure they knew just how bad an idea it'd be to lose anything she gave them.

Especially the wakizashi.

She twirled on heel, paced the length of the room and back again in swift little waltz steps. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. Nervous? Her? The Great Ninja Yuffie? No! No way! It was just—the anticipation. Restless energy and restless thoughts. How, exactly, was she gonna deal with this? It was Aerith, back from the dead, and… and…. And that was good, totally awesome, but Yuffie couldn't banish the feeling of that up close and personal re-enactment she'd been forced to go through. Looking Cloud in the eye had been hard enough.

Breath came first. It was a sudden gasp, the air raw in his throat, though he was too numb to notice it at first. His body tried to follow the rush of thoughts that came tumbling through his mind and only managed to make a few jerky motions in response, his head falling back to the metal beneath with a dull thud.

He was sure he'd died. This wasn't like Oto, when Seishirou had torn apart some virtual version of him. He'd felt the final strike, felt the blood leave his body and the grit of the sand under his cheek when he fell. Was this some kind of afterlife? Was this where patients went when they were released? He couldn't be sure if he was even dead or alive anymore.

There was nothing but darkness around him, so it did little good for his numb hands and fingers to do anything but feel the area around his neck where that fatal wound had struck. He drew back sharply when his fingers encountered a deep gash near the base. It wasn't bleeding profusely as before, but it was still there. How was that possible?

As he jerked his hand away, it hit a wall to his right, hard and with a sound like metal. His breathing still came raggedly as he ran his numbed hands along the walls, ceiling, and base of the metal box, a sense of panic rising in him as he realized there was no way out. He couldn't feel much, but his heart pounding loudly in his chest was hard to ignore, and seemed to speed up with each moment that passed in the tiny enclosed space. At least in other prisons he could see the sky or move his body freely, but this place felt like it was closing in, slowly suffocating him.

The pain grew with each passing moment from a dull throb to a pulsing ache, but there was nothing he could do. After several moments, he calmed enough to notice that the wall behind his head was smaller and the only one that seemed to give at all. His attention was focused upon it in an instant and he pressed the bulk of his weight on the door, but pushing against it only made the tray he was on move back further until it hit what he assumed was a wall near his feet.

Yuuhi forced his hands into fists, ignoring how they ached as he pounded on the metal panel in an almost frantic call for release. Panic started to bubble up once more when the only door refused to give. He might be able to open it, but not unless he could apply more force. He tried using his feet to push off from the far end, ramming the tray into the only part that seemed likely to give, but it only rattled noisily and made an loud bang when it hit. The door wobbled more when he pressed his hand to it though, so he backed up to try again.

It wasn't until he'd given it several noisy tries that the door finally gave and he fell from the metal tray onto a hard, tiled floor. He sat up, dizzy and shaking, but no longer confined in the box as before. There was time now to think, to try to understand where he was and why without feeling like he was suffocating.

There was a slow trickle of blood running down the wound at his neck now, a result of his panic and increased heart rate. The gash wasn't an immediate threat to his life, but it was enough to make him light-headed and weak. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, staring into the darkness as he tried to piece things back together. What'd happened to Yue and Sakura and the others? Had the fight ended? Or were they still made to suffer? Why was he alive?

His body started to shiver and shake as it remembered how to feel and realized how cold it was. The pain began to return as well, and his breathing, though ragged and quick, still came a breath at a time. There was something about his vision that bothered him too. Even in darkness, there were varying degrees that the human eye could perceive. Tiny blobs of light and color when they closed too. But his left side felt strangely off. Much darker. Unable to percieve even the small variations in darkness that told him a distant shape might be a table or a wall.

The same slippery wetness that had been around his throat was pooled around his left eye as well. Thicker than tears and as he touched fingers to his tongue, he instantly recognized it as blood. Was he part of one of their mad experiments now? A monster? Even the shape of his eye felt wrong. Where there should have been a round protrusion, there was nothing but an indentation. And when he was sure the eye was open, his fingers felt only a hollow emptiness, still slick with blood. As the realization of what had been done to him hit, the shaking returned and he retched on the tile, despite his empty stomach.

He pulled his knees in close to his chest, unable to force himself to keep going. Where would he go?  Where was he now?  He didn't even know for sure where he'd woken up. If he was still at the institute, it wasn't as if there was anywhere to run to. He'd already died.  What more could they do to him?

[from here]

So far, so good; Junpei wasn't feeling any compulsion to go someplace he wasn't intending to. It was a relief to know that Evangeline wasn't going to vampire him to her side that night, despite the implications from earlier. Then again... what if where he was heading was where she wanted him to go all along, so it just didn't feel like a vampire compulsion?

Oh man, this whole vampire servant thing sucked. Junpei wasn't even sure if he'd be able to tell when Evangeline decided to call him to hold her hair while she prayed to the porcelain god or something worse - carrying her damn books.

[to here]

[from here]

It looked like Junpei was the first to arrive as there was no sign of a hot pink-haired flesh-eating babe. Leaning against the wall by the door that lead outside, he sighed and tilted his head back. What was he doing? Why were his senpai gone when he so very much needed them to tell him what he should really be doing?

This place sucked. Tartarus was easier to handle than this. It made sense in a twisted way that didn't have him eating vampire flesh or hunting with a bunch of Embryon. He really missed home - even that pathetic drunk.

Shinji hesitated at the threshold and after a moment of horrific indecision and fear he forced himself to take the step out of his room and into dim and darkened hallway. It was all strange again. The people, the appearance of this hallway - so much for hoping that last night might have been a fluke. With a start, he realized he still didn't know where Kaworu and Asuka were being kept and with that realization came the idea that he would have to go and find them (or someone; anyone) by himself. He shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. At least he had his flashlight.

He flicked it on, playing the beam of light over the floor, the walls. He hated this place at night. It reminded him of dim nightmares about hospitals, of being alone without anyone to help or hear him. At least during the day it was clean and white and safe, like a hospital ought to be. Here, it was simply surreal and twisted. He swallowed nervously and took another step down the hallway. Then another. He had to get out of here. He had to find someone.

Shinji forced himself to walk. He wouldn't run. He mustn't run. He still needed to find someone though. He couldn't just sit in his room and pull the covers over his head, as much as he would like to.

Alone and afraid Shinji pressed on into the darkness.

_{[[To here.]]}

Heh, tonight was promising to be kind of interesting. First time in awhile, it seemed like, for which Xigbar was far too happy to give things a shot. That in mind, he stripped off that aggravating gray shirt and started grabbing his weapons, making sure that they were all okay. Three knives lashed to his ankles, three arrows tied around his waist, and the clips of ammunition for the gun were carefully put away for safe-keeping. The gun, naturally, remained in his hands, and he reminded himself that he needed to get some duct tape so he could lash the flashlight on the thing.

For now, though, after preparations were complete, he opened the door and eased out into the hallway, keeping his eye open for trouble. Not that he'd mind, but he'd prefer seeing some trouble after meeting with his people. No point in showing off if there wasn't an appreciative audience, after all!

[From here]

Oh yes. What a world of difference the right clothing made. Ordinarily, von Karma would have kept his coat buttoned up just to conceal that horrid logo on the hospital-issued shirts. However, the only reason he was even wearing the shabby-looking coat now was strictly for its function of carrying his items. Hopefully, the trip to the Patient Possessions Storage would yield a briefcase or something similar that would better match his outfit.

As von Karma strode through the brief corridor leading to the main hallway, he saw no one around yet. Though this likely meant that it was still quite early in the night, he withdrew the hammer from his pocket and gripped it tightly in case trouble presented itself.

Before entering the larger hallway, he peered out through the door to check for possible hazards. All he saw were two people standing around, neither of whom he recognized, but they seemed to pose no direct threat to him. Satisfied that it was safe, he hurried through the corridor's exit and into the main hallway.

[To here]

Emmett left his room empty handed again. It was tougher navigating without a flashlight, but it felt more comfortable. Especially with what he was going to have to do.

Outside seemed like his best bet for hunting. The dogs that attacked them last night didn't exactly smell fresh, but their blood was slightly more appetizing-- and much more likely to be digested by his system than the human food that kept being shoved in his face. Unfortunately there was also the chance that he wouldn't be able to find a semi-living, warmblooded animal out there again. Apparently there had been some Night of the Living Dead theme going on recently. So who knew, maybe it was going to be Swampthing or Frankenstein night-- he did hear that nutjob mention some bullshit like that. If that was the case then his natural prey couldn't be ruled out as an option.

He kept to the wall as he walked down the hallway. It was still early and relatively quiet. Feeding on someone he didn't know was definitely way better than attacking a friend, he was sure the others would agree...

[M101]

Lugnut had, as usual, stayed silent through dinner-- though he had grudgingly eaten a few bites, and drunk a glass of water-- before collapsing onto his bed to rest, for the short while before he had to leave, go to meet HK-47 and his humans.

It barely felt like he'd closed his eyes before the intercom awoke him, and he stared at the ceiling before rising with a heavy sigh, gathering his flashlight, his wooden bat, and his wits before leaving his room and wandering down the hall.

[to here]

622 picked up his sword and glowrod, heading out into the hallway. Hopefully, things would go smoothly tonight. They probably wouldn't, but it felt nice to actually have something to do.

[to here]

[from here]

622 headed down to the last door in the cell block corridor, keeping alert for anything that might already have set itself up in the hall. There usually weren't any ambushes this early in the night, but better safe than dead.

He knocked on the door to M41, waiting slightly back from the door for the Commander to open it.

[From here]

Well... at least no one was screaming this time. But the night had just started so Asuka wasn't holding her breath. Last night's paranoia to remain hidden and quiet in the dark had been efficiently squelched, impatience and overconfidence unfortunately overpowering her tactical training. Besides, after the day she just had "getting to know" the psychos in this place, she was pretty sure she could handle a few delusional boys. And if she had to lodge a shoe up an ass or two, so be it.

Her biggest problem right now was deciding which way to go. She had already gone left, but it seemed like a popular route to go as experienced last night.

Good enough reason for me.

[from here]

The fresh air, though a bit chilly and damp as it seeped through her uniform, was refreshing. Knowing the area to be dangerous, Momo stopped a bit away from the door and scanned the field as her eyesight adjusted to the light cast from the moon. She didn't see any movement, nor did she hear any. Perhaps she'd arrived before the monsters had stirred from their daytime slumber.

That would be fortuitous as Momo would prefer to avoid confrontation. She had adjusted enough for the loss of sight in her left eye, but she could only compensate so much as it had only been a week and she'd yet to get into any serious combat since then.

With a quick glance to the right, checking the field's other door, the shinigami headed toward the outer wall. If she remembered correctly, the canines tended to come from behind the shed toward the back. If she could get to the wall before they showed their snouts...

[from here]

And now it was time for the traditional cautious entry into the Sun Room, the old classic of carefully scanning the area for the enemy that will surprise you anyway, and then the venerable tradition of running in an attempt to not become very lumpy wallpaper.

HK had done this so many times by now, it at least felt like it deserved tourist brochure terms such as those. Come, see the Institute, walk its halls, eat its chocolate, be nearly disemboweled by interesting meatbags...