Nightshift 41: Entry Room

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

[From here]

Kibitoshin stepped into the room, hope renewed. It looked like some kind of reception area if the two desks on either side of him were anything to go on, both absolutely pristine as though everything had been tidied away only seconds before he'd stepped into the room. On top of that there were enough doors here to keep him busy for hours yet. But the Kaioshin's efforts were focused rather further away than reconnaissance; at the end of the room were a pair of wide double doors, and beyond them was the outside. A little giddy, he hurried towards them, reached out, pulled, and-

- nearly wrenched his hand out of its socket. They were locked! Kibitoshin stared at them blankly for several moments, as though they would spring open if he willed it hard enough. Once it became apparent that his night was going to continue being so very distinctly free of miracles he sighed and dropped his hand. "Of course they're locked. That would be way too easy..."

Comments

[justlovesyogurt.livejournal.com]

"Either that or the in-house entertainment," said Michael, trying to make sense of the scene playing out in front of them. "And yes. it seems distracted. It. Not him, not her. This is a thing. And if this is what they have guarding the entry room, who knows what things they have OUTSIDE the entry room. And have you given any thought to what we'll do once we're outside? Assuming we get outside without having ... whatever is happening over there happen to us. Do we know where we are? Do we have any form of transportation? I suggest. We go. A different way."

[manwiththecoat.livejournal.com]

Walter took another step into the room, not even seeming to acknowledge Michael's logic, and started walking for the door, staying close to the east wall. The doll-like creature was too distracted with killing whatever it was, and he reached the other side of the room without incident. He grabbed for the handle, only for it to be locked. There had to be a way around that.

[justlovesyogurt.livejournal.com]

Michael watched Walter walk towards the door. Why did people never listen to his good advice? Now he was in an awkward position. He couldn't let the guy - who looked like he was ready to start beating the door open with his metal rod - get himself noticed and killed over there. And he could think of some useful things to do outside, even if they didn't know exactly where this place was. There was supposed to be a town nearby, at least ...

Michael followed his roommate around the edge of the room. As he passed one of the receptionist's desks, he slid open the drawer, shone his flashlight inside, grabbed a pen and paperclip, and kept moving. As he approached the door he took the cap off the pen, threw the pen away, then got to work straightening out the paperclip. By the time he reached the door, he had a short length of sturdy wire with a small bend at the end, and a slightly mutilated pen cap.

"You're forcing my hand, Walter," he said, inserting the thin tail of the plastic pen cap into the bottom of the lock.

In a perfect world, locks would be unpickable. Parts would fit together exactly and there would be no place to slide in a hairpin or a torque wrench or a pick gun. But manufacturers need to make allowances for faulty parts and moving pieces. No quarter-inch hole is ever exactly a quarter of an inch. Learn the way these things are put together, and you can approximate a key with a few stolen office supplies.

Michael scraped the paperclip along the inside of the lock above the pen cap, feeling for the click that would tell him a tumbler was being pushed into place. Then another, and another, until the locking mechanism gave up, fooled into thinking someone had given it the right key. When that was done, Michael opened the door as quietly as possible, glancing over his shoulder at the bizarre combat going on in the middle of the room. Then he stood up and motioned for Walter to go through. He gave Walter a big, insincere smile.

"After you."

[manwiththecoat.livejournal.com]

Walter forced a smile back. He didn’t understand Michael’s motives for helping him but he hoped they continued. The cold was just creeping in through the open door and he stepped out into it, before the fight behind them ended.

[manwiththecoat.livejournal.com]