The image of Zex dying, choking on his own blood in the middle of a field on a planet that apparently wasn't his home or even close to it -- that was what floated through Harvey's mind as he finally woke up. The deaths were just piling up at this point. First was Rachel, and in that case he hadn't even been able to see her face before it was blown to bits. That had started this whole long road that had turned him into someone else entirely. Then it had been Jones, and while his death had been reversed, that didn't undo what Harvey had been put through when he'd watched the man struggle under his own collapsing chest. Zex he'd barely even known, but watching someone torn to shreds was bound to have an effect.

A bullet to the head was so much cleaner, and so much easier to bear when Harvey knew it was deserved. Landel would deserve that. Aguilar would too. Harvey wouldn't mind watching either of those men draw their last breaths.

Oddly enough, Landel's words almost seemed to echo his own thoughts as he woke from what felt like it had been a deep sleep. People turning into monsters -- it seemed like a metaphor to Harvey's groggy mind, and one that he could relate to well enough these days. But as he came to and realized he was in a dark room, he knew that something was wrong.

He sat up suddenly, wincing at the pinpricks of pain in his neck and shoulders. The dragonflies that they'd encountered last night were responsible for those. Or had it been last night? It was night now, after all, when it should have been morning. Harvey felt like he had slept too long, but just how long was that? He had no sense of time, which was almost enough to send him into a panic.

As he got to his feet, Harvey realized that Lunge was still sleeping and couldn't be roused, which meant he couldn't expect answers there. He went and tried the door, just to make sure that it was in fact night, and nodded to himself when the knob turned without a fuss. He obviously hadn't made any plans if he'd slept through the whole day and maybe more than that, which meant the only way he was getting to the bottom of this was if he went searching for familiar faces.

Jones, Peter, and the others had probably made plans to go to the basement tonight, and even if they hadn't one of them was likely to be hanging around in the main hall. Harvey didn't have much choice but to grab his flashlight, radio, metal pipe, and gun, and then head out the door, like he always did.

[To here.]

[From here.]

It was only after Harvey had made his way down the first hall and moved into the next one that he realized he still had bandages covering his face. It was wrong that he was getting used to the feeling of the gauze smothering his wounds, but he had no choice when the nurses kept constant watch on him during the day. He'd been too disoriented upon waking up to rip them off the way he usually did in his room.

That wasn't about to stop him now, though. After rearranging some of the items in his hands, he pulled the bandages off with the same amount of roughness -- something that he paid for when some of the dried blood and flesh came with them.

He let out a groan of pain, but that only lasted for a split second before he let the trail of bandages fall to the floor. Seeing how he'd slept so long, it made sense that the gauze had clung to his wounds more than normal.

At least that was taken care of now. With a grunt, Harvey sent a glance around the empty hallway and then exited out through the door.

[To here.]

[From here.]

Even though Harvey knew that it would make more sense to wait until he'd run into someone else who he could question about what he'd missed, that didn't stop his mind from speculating even further. His own situation -- why he'd slept so long, how much had gone on while he'd been unconscious -- was obviously his largest concern, but now he was also directing some of his attention to what he remembered of Landel's announcement.

Turning into monsters. It had seemed like some sort of analogy before, but now that he was more awake Harvey had to consider the possibility that it was completely literal. He had no idea if he was experiencing any symptoms, but he also didn't know what he would need to look out for.

With everything else that was going on, that was really the least of his concerns at the moment. If he started vomiting blood or breaking out into sweats, he'd start to worry. But seeing how he'd been in his room this whole time, he doubted that he'd caught whatever might be going around the institute.

That was one consolation, at least. And now he was almost at the main hall, so he'd get to see if he was somehow the only patient left or if he was just overreacting.

[To here.]

If not for the cold seeping into her body, Yomi might not have bothered coming out of her slumber. The darkness in the depths of her mind was warm, safe; she was cradled in oblivion, comfortable, the same feeling she had had as a girl during dark winter nights when she had sat in front of the space heater and father had told her stories. Home. She didn’t want to let that sense of belonging go. She craved it in secret places she didn’t know she had.

But like the tide, the darkness was slowly receding to reveal what waited underneath--an onslaught of sensations that resembled a beach littered with thousands of shards of broken glass. There was no safe place to step on that dead soil. Every time Yomi’s mind brushed a sharp edge it released a starburst of pain, and she badly wanted to go back, to return to that sea of gentle nothingness where nothing could hurt her.

And she couldn’t hurt anyone.

Wait, why did that sound so familiar? Had she been the one to think that? Why… would that…

Her fingertips and toes were sore from the cold, and the discomfort strangling her nerves was what drew her back into her body more than anything else. Something wasn’t right. Many somethings. Her body hurt in unusual places, and there was something soft on her face that cast her shallow breaths back against her skin. Her heartbeat was audible in her ears. With the darkness all around her, it almost enough to convince her she was still in that comfortable place from before. But it wasn’t the same. Reality demanded attention and it nagged at her like the hum of a live wire.

You’re not--

What? Whose voice was that in her head? She wasn’t what?

It was with the fumbling of a disoriented child that Yomi ended up stretching her hand along the cool metal surface underneath her. It extended to the left and right of her, then up, up above her head and over her in a suffocatingly tight formation. She slapped at it softly. No give. There was still something covering her face and she worked it off until it pooled at her collar, letting in a caress of cold air. A sheet or a blanket, she thought.

The moment she opened her eyes properly, she opened them to an impenetrable blackness, and that confused her the most. Why? Why was she here and why did it hurt? It made sense if she couldn’t see anything, because you couldn’t see anything when you were--

Were…

Wait. Wait a minute!

When you’re dead. And you’re not dead. You’re still alive.

Yomi couldn’t breathe and although she opened her mouth to suck in air, nothing came. No, she couldn’t possibly be…? She dug her fingertips in with more purpose, but the metal of the chamber around her was solid and gave her no answers. A shrill sound left her and it was the sound of her own voice, high and rough with panic, that positively let her know that it was true, that this wasn’t death or even life after death. She was still alive. Oh god, alive… But no, no, no one could have survived what had happened. Her body had been broken and scattered, too much for the sesshouseki’s debilitated healing to repair. No human could have put her back together. Could be holding her together.

She wasn’t alone in the coffin-like unit, and that knowledge made tears spill from the corners of her eyes.

Bucking upward only served to bang her head against the shelf, but Yomi didn’t stop--couldn't, not with terror climbing her throat with burning hands. She thrashed, beating her fists against the sides and roof until she could feel her bones begin to bruise and heal and bruise all over again, the blows seeming to fall into a rhythm with her internal protests: no, no, no, no! That was when the screaming started. The screams were not sounds of a sane person claiming their second chance, but the wild shrieks of something that knew it shouldn’t exist. A part of Yomi felt that if she could scream hard enough, it would just go on and on and on and she would die from a lack of air before she had to face another moment as she was. Alive.

This couldn’t be happening, it couldn’t, not again. She couldn’t still be… here!

[from here]

He'd managed to calm down enough to continue forward, but the silence was truly becoming grating by this point. And it wasn't doing anything to help with his anxiety, if one were to be frank. It was easier to ignore paranoia than this level of profound silence. There was absolutely nothing from the hallway behind or ahead. And nothing from outside either. Only the steady rhythm of his feet hitting the stairs.

...And if he focused on that, maybe... yes, it was just a little bit calming. If only slightly.

[to here]

[from here]

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Klavier had a vague melody playing in the back of his head. It really would have been better to have something tangible to listen to. That way he wouldn't lose it as soon as he tried to focus more thoroughly on his surroundings. He stood, quiet and straining to listen for anything unusual in the darkness. Nothing.

He still hesitated in proceeding forward. If anything, the continued silence just made the entire thing feel more suspicious. It was difficult not to feel like one was walking right into a trap or an ambush. He briefly glanced behind him, back down the stairs, before moving forward. Again, he just needed to focus on what he was doing and where he was going. Don't get sidetracked.

The area he wanted to inspect was straight ahead.

[to here]

[From here]

Loki headed deeper into the large hallway, skirting past the Sun Room. He walked with quick efficiency, expecting that the mortals would either keep up all right, or at least Lust would be smart enough to say something if she couldn't. There was no reason to linger anywhere.

As they passed the Sun Room, Loki shot a quick look inside, but he didn't see anything moving. It didn't matter, since they weren't going there, but it was curious that the doors were always open.

[from here]

The hall stretched out far ahead of him. Further than his flashlight could reach from the opposite end. It gave that claustrophobic illusion of simply walking forever into the eternal ink of darkness. And so, at first, he moved slowly and carefully. He scanned the area around him so he wouldn't be caught off guard by... something. Ach, he didn't even know what he'd do, to be honest. He'd probably just have a heart attack if something were to randomly jump out at him out of nowhere. (For the record, he always couldn't stand horror movies.) But he held the metal pipe out ahead of him, nonetheless. It made him feel a little more protected, at least.

His flashlight came across a door. The one labeled "Disciplinary Therapy Corridor." And then... he was reminded just how useless this blasted pipe was in his hands. As well as reminded of that child all over again. And in turn, it made him think of last night again.

Surprisingly, this just... annoyed him. And it prompted him to drop all sense of caution and simply move down the hallway at a fast pace. He was sick of this. Sick of feeling helpless and sick of having absolutely no control over anything here. And he was sick of always looking over his shoulder. That was no way to live. You know what? If something was going to come and get him, it wasn't going to come and get while he was sneaking around like timid mouse. Something wants him, let them try. He didn't have time for this garbage.

[to here]

[from here]

Unlike the hallways downstairs, the doors separating halls were actually locked. It was a little strange. Individual rooms, sure, but hallways? It just made him think there were more things worth hiding in this part of the building. Or maybe that was the impression they wanted to give.

It took a little work, but Klavier managed to use the pipe to snap apart the lock of the door and continue forward. He'd never been in this part of the institute before, and judging by the lock, no one else was here tonight yet either. So if there was anything unsavory here, he would be the first to find out. Grand.

His destination was all the way at the end of the hallway and to the left. The Morgue. One couldn't find a much more ominous place to start the night than that. But he wasn't planning to linger here for very long. Really, he was mostly here for confirmation's sake.

Ema Skye had been confirmed to be in her room the night before her disappearance. So she had been taken to wherever it was people went once they disappeared. It was a little more assuring than thinking she might have been... unlucky while wandering the halls. So honestly, he hoped she wasn't here. He would look, but he hoped not. In all probability, she wouldn't be. He was fairly certain those taken were kept alive somewhere. There were too many reports of people returning either as patients or visitors or otherwise for him to assume they were simply killed off.

And then there was Yomi. According to Nigredo, there was a chance she actually wasn't dead at all. Despite being very much dead yesterday, he claimed there was at least that possibility. In other words, she shouldn't have been here either if all was right.

He paused in front of the door and stared at the little sign labeling the door for a moment. He was coming here with the hope of finding nothing. If he could confirm their bodies weren't there, then that would answer his concerns. However, he was positive this hospital wouldn't have a morgue unless there actually were bodies of some sort in there. ...Once he opened that door, he wasn't sure who or what he would see. He had to be prepared for the possibility of finding the corpse of absolutely anyone. Anyone.

He took a deep breath and simply let it out as a sigh. Bodies, he was used to. Bodies of those close to him, he was not. But there was no sense in hesitating. Finally, he used the pipe to strike at the lock on the door a few times. It proved to be about as sturdy as the one separating the halls as it snapped after a few hits. Without any further pause, he pulled the lock off and went inside.

[to here]

[From here]

"There are two operating rooms with supply rooms attached to them," Loki said as he continued down the hall. "Those seem the most likely if you want supplies of... that sort of magnitude. Though it's really a matter of just guaranteeing survival for a few hours, I should think."

He wondered why Lust in particular wanted these items. She didn't seem the sort to get herself injured for little reason. Perhaps it was her idiotic companion, then. Or Lust was just more cautious than he'd thought her.

He passed by the hall with the doctors' offices, then headed toward the door to the medical wing.

[From here]

Loki strode into the hallway, heading for toward the operating rooms. He wasn't certain what rooms the drugs Rita had spoken of might be stored in, but he was fairly certain it wasn't those. He pointed toward the two rooms. "Through here and through the operating theaters, there are supply rooms. Such items as suturing kits and other more surgical implements are there for the taking. I think those might be quite useful for what you want."

As for his own search, he would need to be methodical, and even then there were no guarantees.