damned_institute | Nightshift 27: Janitor's Supply Closet

"Wonderful!"

Citan beamed at the younger man for a moment, before moving to inspect the treasure trove that had been uncovered. Well, well, well. The doctor nodded to himself, eyes roaming over the shelves and bottles and boxes. This was surprising, to say the least.

"Young one, this is exactly what I needed to find."

It had been a wise move to seduce Armand away from his companions. Citan doubted he would have found this place on his own tonight. While it appeared to be mostly cleaning supplies and household tools, Citan knew he could cannibalize them into useful contraptions.

"A pity I left the wheelchair downstairs, it would have worked wonderfully to carry out everything I'd like."

"I can carry some things," Armand offered. He'd offer to go get the wheelchair, but he didn't trust that the path back would stay safe for one man to traverse alone.

"I'm here to help you," he added, not sure if Citan realized how much he was in charge. It was never wise to put Armand in charge of anything. He was surprised they'd made it here. He picked up one of the bottles of fluid and sniffed it tentatively and winced. He wondered if these be made into a weapon. They smelled pretty toxic. "Do you know about chemicals too?"

"I know a fair bit," Citan said, raising an eyebrow. He grabbed the tool kit immediately, opening it and smiling widely. Perfect. Basic and simple tools, but just what he needed.

"I'll need this. Ah, and this will be useful, and perhaps these...." The heavy duty black tape looked promising. As well as a power cord, a handful of batteries, a rag, and two iridescent tubes. There was more he wanted, but if the chemicals proved useful... even between the two of them, they could only carry so much. And it was easy enough to return to this place.

"Let me see what you have there."

The labels didn't mean all that much to Armand. Yes, he could read them perfectly fine, even in the dim light, but he wasn't a janitor. They were specialized cleaners for things he thought one cleaned with soap and water or not at all, but he gathered the containers up and lined them up on the shelf for Citan to see.

Bleach, glass cleaner, toilet cleaner, paint stripper, paint thinner, paint, WD 40, stain remover, ink remover and air sanitizer. Some were in cans he didn't know how to open, if one could open them, but many were just in jugs made from a strong, flexible subtance he didn't recognize.

"Any of these?" The one he'd sniffed earlier was the glass cleaner. "They smell terrible."

Their legs moved quickly, the soft skittering of legs barely audible along the walls. Their approach might be written away as a trick of the eye, a dark spot seen moving on the edge of vision, but gone when the unfortunate turned his head.

But they were there, and they were real, with ravenous hunger resounding through their skulls.

A pair of the things, drawn in by the lure of fresh meat, all the more disguisting for the night that changed them. The roaches moved blindly forward, not caring what they managed to bite, or anything else beyond food. The first from the shelf, seeking stray hands that lingered a bit too long on the surface, the second on the ground, closer to unguarded ankles.

[Tad]

"Let's have a look." Citan picked up one of the containers and adjusted his glasses, to read the list of ingredients. He hoped he recognized at least some of the components.

"Armand...did you hear something?" Was this place making him so paranoid? Citan glanced at the floor, but saw nothing. He was simply being ridiculous. Him, of all people! Perhaps all that blood loss had effected his brain.

And then he felt it. The sting of something biting at his hand, sharp pincers piercing through flesh. He drew back, shaking off the offending creature...

"Dear gods, what foul vermin!"

Mutated cockroaches. How utterly disgusting.

Citan's question made Armand stop and listen more carefully. He was about to say he couldn't hear anything other than the two of them breathing when Citan shook something off his hand and shouted.

He was distracted from immediately trying to find something useful to do in response by stinging bites or pinches on his bare ankles. There was a reason he missed wearing boots from time to time! To his shame, he screamed briefly before he managed to bite his tongue. It didn't hurt that badly yet, but it surprised him.

He stamped his feet, trying to shake them away and backed up a step or two. There wasn't a great deal of room in the crowded supply closet to crouch and bat at the creatures with his mop handle.

The roaches each retreated as the men shook them off, but the relief was short lived. Such tiny bites were nowhere near enough for the creatures, and if shivets was the worse they'd get in retalliation, they'd feast well.

The second crawled quickly back towards Armand, the first delayed as it made it's way down the shelves towards the floor.

What killed roaches? Damn, this was more Yui's domain than his. Was there pest control anywhere in here? Quickly, Citan scanned the items on the shelf. No, nothing for killing bugs.

"Just remain calm," he called to Armand. Panic was the last thing they needed.

For lack of anything else, he snatched up the spray bottle of stain remover and sprayed some of the noxious smelling chemical on the roach that was headed towards the floor.

Don't panic? Armand tried. There wasn't an entire swarm of them, he reasoned to himself, not yet anyway. His experience with vermin was that they swarmed, overwhelming their victims with sheer numbers so it was hard to think in terms of fending off a few, tougher ones.

He stepped back again, hoping to evade getting bitten again, then he used the mop handle end-on, like a piston, to try to crush any bug that got too near.

Someone more knowing about such things might have laughed at Citan's efforts, the roach continuing forward as if nothing had happened at all. But there were benefits, however, the chemical making the surface just slick enough to make the bug slip. It tumbled to the ground, having the misfortune to land on it's back, legs writhing furiously as it tried to right itself again.

The other roach did indeed come at Armand, and without fear of the mop handle. Even when the man's aim was true, the blunt instrument only stopped the thing for a second when it hit the armor-like shell that covered the roach's back. Then it continued on, not caring of the distance or the danger, just that there was food ahead.

Just delightful. In all of his many travels and conquests, killing bugs had never been anything Citan had been called on to do. Even the mutated creatures Solaris had engineered hadn't been buglike in nature.

"Rather tough little things, aren't they," Citan muttered, bringing his foot down as hard as he could on the wriggling, giant roach.

Armand still didn't want to risk these rather soft-soled slippers against the roaches. He shoved the light under his arm so he can one hand to hold the pillowcase open while he scrabbled for the knife he'd just dumped in there. It isn't very big but it is sharp. It took him a bit to put his hand on it and draw it out, looking for a roach to stab.

Tough, but not indestructible; Citan's stomp broke through the fragile underbelly of the roach, sending putrid goo flying up from the carcass. A mix of black and bright yellow, it clung to whatever it landed on, coating Citan's foot for his trouble.

But the roach clearly was dead, and that was a good thing.

Armand wouldn't have to look far for the other. In fact, he wouldn't have to look at all. The tickle of the roach's feet could be felt on his leg a moment before sharp pain of it's bite, it's mouth cutting through cloth to reach the precious skin beneath.

Revolting! Citan scowled as he felt the slick, foul innards of the bug on his skin. God, it stank. It was like being in the sewers under Kislev once more. Not exactly a pleasant memory.

"Their undersides are vulnerable," he shouted to Armand, glad there were rags in the closet. Once they'd killed the creatures, at least they could clean up!

Armand hissed in pain at the bite on his tender skin. He crouched and tried first to knock the roach off his leg with the tip of the blade. He worried that his movements were too cautious, but he didn't want to flail around wildly in such an enclosed place. Citan would learn soon enough he was no fighter.

"I hear you," he muttered to Citan. The stench from the dead bug made him want to gag.

Fortunately for Armand, his lack of skill wasn't much of a deficit in the face of the roach's stupidity; armored, tough, infectious, yes. But the insect was hardly intelligent, and it took little effort to turn the thing on it's back. Just as its counterpart before, the creature's legs writhed helplessly in the air, the bug spinning as it tried to turn itself over.

"There we are, young one! Now finish it off!"

Citan called his encouragement to Armand, nodding enthusiastically as the young man got the creature in a vulnerable position. It was clear from his movements and the way he held himself that Armand wasn't much of a warrior.

Perhaps Citan should offer to give the boy some pointers.

Encouraged by Citan and the fact that the wriggling insect seemed not to be able to attack him at the moment, Armand stabbed downward overhand with the small knife, aiming for the roach's softer underbelly.

He wrinkled his nose as his hand got close but didn't make the mistake of closing his eyes. This time.

The puncture wasn't nearly as bad as the stomp so far as the release of innards went, but whatever method added the odor of rancid guts to the air. The roach writhed wildly for a moment before it stilled, as dead as the other. Should Armand try to free his knife, no doubt he'd be faced with the same mess that coated Citan's foot.

But that didn't really matter to the roach.

"Very good!" Citan bent to wipe at his foot, using one of the rags. "There you are, a clean kill!" He was quick to applaud the young man, giving him what encouragement he could.

"Here, you may need this." He held out the fouled rag, wrinkling his nose.

Armand reached up and took the rag Citan offered. "Thank you," he said. There wasn't any point delaying. He wriggled the knife a little to get it free from the roach corpse, not at all happy at the odor and the oozing--well, squirting--innards.

"How many days is it before we can bathe again?" He was afraid he'd smell the putrescence for days. He wiped his hands and the knife with the rag, trying not to get even more on his skin. Some experiences one never forgot, and smells carried memories.

"I suggest we find what you want and get out of here before their friends come to avenge them."

"I don't know." Citan shook his head. "But I'm sure we'll have a chance to clean up in the bathrooms." He smiled and quickly gathered the supplies he'd chosen, as well as a handful of the bottles and cans.

"I agree. If you could help me carry these, we'll be on our way."

Armand gladly accepted half of the supplies, tucking what he could into his pillowcase for easy carrying. He tossed the nasty rag into the corner of the closet.

He smiled back, a bit cheered by Citan's sunny attitude.

"Have you a plan on where to go next?"

Citan paused a moment, thinking. He had wanted tools, and now he had them. And he had his radios to work with. While there were bound to be more mechanical items somewhere, he was rather sure carrying them would be a problem.

And he wasn't at his top condition in any rate.

"Well, I think it would be unwise to try too much with our burden." He continued to smile. "Much as I would like to gather as many supplies as possible, we shouldn't over-extend ourselves."

Armand was hoping to see somewhere else exciting, though monster free. He thought he hid his disappointment well. Still, his hopeful smile faltered for a moment before he bent down to gather up his pillowcase.

"I can understand that," he said. "Do you work in your room then?" He knew they weren't staying here all night. It smelled too horrid.

"A very good question!" There was no work room here. Generally he had someplace to work, even if it was some sort of closet. "I did some work in my room the other night. It isn't the optimal workspace - especially when the lights are shut off. But I don't have much of a choice."

He opened the door, and glanced into the hall, hoping it was clear and monster free.

"I'm sure we can find somewhere suitable." He tried to mimic Citan's habitual optimism as he thought. The doctors here, if they really existed, would have offices. Would a private office work? He shook his head to himself. Possibly not. There had to be somewhere, though.

He couldn't see around the taller doctor easily, so he squeezed up beside him to peer into the hallway. He couldn't see anything obviously dangerous waiting for them. Taking advantage of his slightly greater agility, since he wasn't injured, he pushed past the other man and out into the hallway.

((Going back here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/232439.html)))((slight edit))

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/232439.html?thread=16867575#t16867575)]

Siegfried stepped through the door, shining the torch around him. The room looked at first undisturbed, but then the light caught the bodies of the dead insects. They must have caused trouble for whoever had been here previous.

He moved away from the doorway, giving the other two space to enter the room. “Take whatever you think you’ll need. There’s no real weapons here that I know of, but it’s best to have something.”

What caught Steve's attention first was the WD-40 and the paint thinner. The bleach was a good second. "Well," he murmured. "I'm not good with chemicals, but we could use some of these things for quick get-away devices." Burnside snatched up a bottle of WD-40 and some of the paint thinner and grinned.

"We're just going to need a light.."

Ed thought the toilet paper looked promising for mischief, but they were here for useful things of the weaponly sort. She spoke to herself more than anyone else as she peered into the shelves and avoided the icky dead bugs. These was her first sighting of the infamous spoooky monsters, and the only thing that really registered was how much they stunk.

"Items for fighting the monsters that creep. Fun things for other stuff here they do keep!"

The general contents of the closet were quickly memorized for later reference. For now, the redhead reached for an extension cord and cackled gleefully; it was quickly wound around her waste and haphazardly tied into an impromptu belt. Then she snapped up a mop, which was large and unwieldy for someone her size but didn't seem to faze her. If only the bucket were smaller, she'd have a nice helmet, but sadly it was one of the big kind with a wringer.

"Ready for action! No more distraction!" announced the girl with confidence as she brandished the mop and sprang back out into the hall.

Tightening her grip on her pole, Bella lifted her flashlight up and peered around in silence at the room. They had found it! Letting out a relived sigh, she moved silently into the pitch black space, though pressed up against the wall soon after.

Taking a deep breath, she waited for the other two to enter the room before she dared move into the darkness. After all, who knew what could be hiding?

With her luck, it was probably the same two headed cannibal monster from last time.

Shuddering at the thought, Bella peered down at her flashlight and let out a sigh.

"Man!" Heiji exclaimed, surveying the scene with wide eyes. "The hell happened in here?" Nearly gagging at the smell and sight of the slain roaches, he covered his nose with his hand. "Someone's got a real bad pest problem, naa?"

He slipped around Bella and began raiding the shelves, "Pipe... pipe... ah-hah!" Heiji produced a three-foot pipe from behind one of the shelves, grinning his usual carefree grin. It fell as he let out a slow breath, centering himself. Half a moment later, he lashed out with the pipe.

"DO!" Heiji's pipe struck a hapless bucket that had the misfortune of being the closest thing to him. The side buckled and cracked. Satisfied, Heiji exhaled, his grin returning. "Long time since I did that! Oh right!" He grinned and winked at Bella, "Flashlight!" He returned to the shelves and began searching.

Edward moved his own flashlight through the room, looking disgusted at the amount of bug carcasses that littered the floor. He stopped breathing again, this smell almost as bad as the blood, if only in a different sense.

"This is quite revolting," he agreed, toeing one dead bug to flip it over. These roaches were... really big. Was everything some sort of enlarged animal? The reports seemed to sound as such.

He drew his gaze up to Heiji at his find, the fire of jealousy dissipating. At least he hadn't commented further. And it seemed the boy was right - the enemy was a simple bucket, but the action was carried out how Edward imagined it should be. He couldn't claim to be much of an expert on the use of weapons, however. Somewhat comforting.

The vampire turned back to the shelves with a small shake of his head, marveling at such simple items that could still be very helpful. Bleach, batteries, duct tape... ah! A box cutter. Not for a weapon, but still useful. It was hard enough to find a sharp object in the facility. Lightbulbs. WD-40. The latter would be helpful if he ever managed to get his hands on a lighter. A few scattered rags.

Upon further investigation, he came upon a box of garbage bags. Whilst the other searched for lights, Edward put his own in his mouth, holding it with his teeth while he went to work at gathering what he could into the bag. Almost silly how one could take such simple supplies for granted!

Oh god, how had she not noticed the bugs? When Heiji and Edward mentioned them, her eyes quickly darted to the dead creatures, and all at once she let out a strangled sound and darted across the room straight over to Edward.

When she was close enough, she then proceeded to cling in a death grip onto her fiancé’s back, trying to just get the hell off of the floor. Then with Heiji’s sudden smack at the bucket, she clung even more, jumping from slight surprise.

God, this night was just not working for her.

Clinging onto Edward while he bit onto his flashlight, she groaned, hiding her nose against his shoulder blade. “GOD it smells horrible in here too. What is it with this place and smelling gross? Aren’t hospitals supposed to smell good?” At least all the hospitals she had been in smelt pleasant. And she had seen her fair share of hospitals, too.

Bella released Edward after a few moments and turned to stand beside him and look through the shelves. Hm, what could she possibly find that would be of use? It wasn’t like she knew of anything that would come in handy, unless she saw some sort of knife or something like that.

Nightshift 27: Janitor's Supply Closet

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