Nightshift 42: The Bookworm

[tightsofmight]

Worst Case Scenario: they got stuck in town when night came.

He hated being right.

It started out subtle. Hinamori had barely finished her sentence before he realized that the sunlight had all but died. Things got a little cooler, wisps of grey marking their every breath. Peter turned to the window in horror. A splatter of blood blossomed before his eyes on the glass, welling up from the centre and drying as soon as it was born. Beyond it, the paved street cracked. Half-fleshed hands sprouted from the divide, pulling up even more gruesome bodies behind them.

"GAAAH!!" he shrieked, clutching at his throbbing head. His spider sense was going psycho, harder than it ever had. He tasted blood, leaking in a thin trail from his nose to his lips.

Get up get up get up

He pushed past the sensation, shooting a look up to Hinamori, then to the rest of the store when the floorboards started to creak. The clerks behind the counter didn't look so friendly now.

"Zombies," Peter whispered in disbelief, rising from his chair. "Oh my god, they're all zombies..."

The pain in his head began to fade. He took no solace in that.

Comments

[hajike-tobiume.livejournal.com]

Momo was already on her feet, eyes narrowed and shimmering slightly as she looked at their spirit threads. At least she tried to. No souls - tey had no souls.

"I hope you this answers the question you had earlier about the state of the townspeople," Momo replied, wiping away the small bit of blood that had begun to drip from her own nose. "They lack souls as well."

Despite being trapped in a building with zombie-like creatures, Momo was surprisingly calm. This was unexpected and she was unarmed, but she was far from helpless. She was shinigami. Turning to Peter, she put a hand on his arm and forced him to meet her eyes.

"We need to get out. There is no tactical advantage in staying inside." Not with them. "Let's move!" With that, the shinigami delivered a kick at the closest bookshelf with a strength her tiny frame should not possess.

[tightsofmight]

"Yeah, I figured," he said breathlessly. Suddenly Evil Dead didn't seem like such a fun romp after all.

Hinamori was stronger than she looked. Probably came with the territory of being a godly warrior, but still. Impressive. Several emerging zombies were crushed by the onslaught of one hundred and fourteen hard cover books and the wooden shelf that followed. Peter moved out of her grasp and quickly shed his hoodie in the brief respite that followed. The thinner sweater underneath might leave him cold, but it fitted him. Fighting in something that baggy was only going to get him killed.

He'd just pulled free when a hand shot out from the floor, inches from his foot. Peter didn't think - just kicked the hand clean off of the molding wrist and flipped onto the back of his armchair, perched on all fours as usual. He sent a dismayed look at the door, blocked by three shelves of books and a newly sprouted gang of corpses.

"Window on three?"

[hajike-tobiume.livejournal.com]

Peter was surprisingly spry for a human, but Momo wasn't about to question it. Not at the moment, at least.

Turning to face the window, she shifted her stance. It was plenty big enough for both her and Peter to get through. There were benefits to being small.

"Three!"

The shinigami stayed low to the ground as she struck the window.

[tightsofmight]

Peter wasted no time. He leaped off the chair, rearing up and kicking through the glass the instant the death god shouted 'three'.

The pane collapsed completely. It threw Peter for a second before he remembered this wasn't some reinforced corporate building, it was a small town bookstore. And an old one at that.

Now that they were free, they were facing an open street, albeit one crawling with the undead. Peter couldn't even count how many there were, and if there were this many all over town, then it wouldn't take long to spread.

Brainy was still in the park. Alone and completely immobilized.

Peter turned frantically to Hinamori, shouting over the din of unearthly moans. "I have to go - my roommate, he's in a wheelchair!" He licked his lips, eying the corpses as they moved closer. "Do you - is there somewhere safe you can go?"

[hajike-tobiume.livejournal.com]

Momo cast her gaze around at the scene outside the window.

'I'll be fine," she replied, forming a plan already. "I'm going to secure the roof so it can be a safe harbor in this mess."

She looked over at Peter. "Be quick. Be safe. I'll look for you tomorrow if I don't see you again tonight."

Without waiting any longer, Momo lithely jumped from the window sill onto the shoulders of one of the nearby zombies. As soon as her feet hit, she jumped again, leaping to another shambling form then up to grab a hold of the edge of the roof. With a little swing and a bit of push from her reiatsu, Momo disappeared onto the roof of the bookstore.

[mitase.livejournal.com]

[in from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/673721.html?thread=55591865#t55591865)]

Hanatarou's startled cry was cut off abruptly when he struck one of the shelves, then slid down onto the floor amidst a minor avalance of books. He somewhat belatedly lifted his arms to protect his head and blinked around at the store, attempting to regain his bearings.

This was all wrong, even more so than nights usually were in this place. They should've been back in the building, he should've had dinner with Sora and then had his uniform to change into. He could've at least felt like he was prepared for the night that way, even if the false-Hisagomaru he carried was more for show than anything else, but this - whatever was going on, he didn't know, and had no idea what he was supposed to do.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from behind him, and the shinigami froze in place for an instant, ignoring the inevitable trickle of blood that seeped from one nostril as he focused on the spirit threads around him. He could hear something there, but - no threads. Nothing.

That meant...

The shinigami grabbed up the closest books and turned, hurling them with all his (not at all considerable) strength at the creatures approaching from between the shelves. He had nothing else with which to fight, and they were only coming closer.

[idolism]

Vampires didn’t quite get adrenaline rushes in the same biological sense that humans did, but the end effect was rather similar. It was with a mix of upset nerves and upset instincts--blood was everywhere--that Aidou ploughed back through the doorway, slammed the door behind him, and immediately began dragging over the nearest shelving unit, still mostly full of books, to barricade the entrance.

Those things were hunting like only the slow and stupid could, but there was way too many of them, and it didn’t take a proficient threat to be able to get through a door when there was enough of them around.

Or a window, but it’d take a while for them to manage that. Right?

He had more strength than someone with his figure should have seemingly possessed, and a second later, the back of the shelf clunked against the wood of the door. It reeked, and one barricade wasn’t going to do much, and ugh there was still the ones who’d been inside when the change had happened. Minus Hinamori and the boy, the two of which had… gone out a back window.

The possibilities the layout of the building and its surroundings provided began unfurling in his mind even as he turned on the shambling corpses approaching him and--damn, that boy was still there, wasn’t he!?--jumped at one coming into the main aisle. He didn’t need a weapon to keep them back. The vampire slashed at the side of its throat with more claws than fingernails then reversed direction and went for another’s leg a few feet further back, knocking them both down. But how did you kill something that was obviously already dead? Slicing the throat wouldn’t do it, and taking out their legs to walk on wasn’t a permanent solution, either…

In the movies, people always blew out the brains, didn’t they?

Aidou paused, panting softly, listening for the slow approach of more. But he already had dead flesh and innards on his hands now--which was sure to add up over the course of the night. Wasn’t there a better way? Only he knew ice wouldn’t work, either. Frozen flesh probably wouldn’t bother them.

[mitase.livejournal.com]

Once it seemed still for the moment, Hanatarou peeked out from behind the large hardback book he'd grabbed up as a shield of sorts against splattering goo-bits while the blond stranger dealt with the undead creatures. "Er," he began, somewhat uncertain if it was wise to even call attention to himself at this point, "Th-thank you...?"

The books he'd been throwing hadn't made any impact whatsoever (literal or figurative) on them, and it wasn't as though he was any use in combat. And the stranger had tossed him into the relative safety of the shop instead of leaving him on the street, which if nothing else was worth thanks. Even if the man was rather disturbingly good at eviscerating shambling zombies with his bare hands.

"You're...n-not hurt, are you? Um. I'm, er, a healer..." Hanatarou cautiously pushed to his feet again at that, but despite his care still slipped on a stray paperback and was forced to grab one of the still-standing shelves for balance. He turned a rather sheepish smile on the stranger once solidly upright, expecting at any second to be yelled at and likely left behind to fend for himself. With books.

He was so doomed.

[idolism]

Aidou didn’t prefer relying on a personal weapon, but he also didn’t prefer relying on such base attacks if he could help it, and normally he could… in normal situations, in normal times, when he had his full range of abilities to call upon. This was just disgusting, having more congealed blood on his hands. It ranked up there with the night Akatsuki had… the night Aidou had killed his doppelganger, because he knew things were only going to get much worse. Every ounce of energy he had, he’d no doubt need.

Landel had seen to limiting his capacities like the bastard were lobotomizing an animal, but Aidou hadn’t felt the impact in quite such a way as this. And that was a mindset he couldn’t fall into, because he would not be rattled and he would not let himself think of failure.

Of what it would mean to be overwhelmed by this… army of undead.

The first zombie was making an effort to regain its feet despite the gash in its throat oozing dark, rank blood, and the vampire kicked it in the head. Hard. He was going to make it out of this, damn it. He’d trump everything Landel threw at him. The stuttering figure behind him was another story, though. The other hadn’t entirely been forgotten, and Aidou turned just as the other stumbled, needing to clutch the creaky wood for support. The vampire could still smell his blood, even with the cloy of the dead stuff all around him.

But exactly who was the predator and who was the prey anymore? Those things were out for blood, too.

“You can’t fight,” was the addition to Hanatarou’s statement. It wasn’t a question. If the undead creatures had gotten their hands on him before Aidou had, they certainly would have done more than given him a nosebleed. That was also a fact in the noble’s mind. “The next time you might not be so lucky. They’re still in here, and more will probably come.”

[31st-of-china.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/674253.html?thread=55612109#t55781325) later at night]


He could see more the creatures shambling in on him from the main street.

Sanzo pushed at the front door. It gave, but stopped short against something heavy and solid. There wasn't any more time to try and force the thing. The undead were getting closer, and he needed to hurry up and make a damn decision whether to try this place further or move on.

The monk walked around to the side of the building, when his eyes caught something. One of the ground-level windows was shattered, and judging from a glance inside, it looked like someone had attempted to barricade the front door. Why the hell they didn't barricade the windows as well was beyond him. Gun out in front of him, he checked the main room, studying the corners, the counter. The last thing he wanted was to stumble upon a nest of frightened patients and get his ass shot at.

It looked clear. Carefully stepping through the broken window, Sanzo entered the bookstore. Glass crunched under his shoe soles.

[onefellbeast.livejournal.com]

With the creatures coming in from all directions, Takasugi didn't have much of a choice but to follow the monk to a less populated area. He knew he wouldn't be able to fend them all off on his own, and even if they were easy to kill, were he to be overwhelmed by their sheer numbers, he wouldn't survive.

He took off after Sanzo, pausing to slice through one of them that attempted to impede him. It died with some difficulty, its rotted guts splattering everywhere onto the clothes the institution had given him, but Takasugi ignored the awful stench and continued into the book stores.

Hopping through the broken window, he made sure to turn around and knock down one of the shelves to act as an extra barricade and slow them down before he continued after Sanzo. Luckily, there were less of them inside, judging by the absence of the groans in their direction. Takasugi took care to avoid the glass, as well, and keep from tripping on fallen books before he reached Sanzo's side again, interested in finishing their conversation.

"Aren't men just animals?" he murmured, examining the blade of his knife, which was now crusted over with the remains of the creatures he had killed. "Your mistake is in assuming we're any different. We kill to survive. We kill for revenge. We kill because it's instinctual. Are your hands so clean of blood that you can toss more accusations in my directions?"

He boldly reached out and seized Sanzo by the wrist, turning his hand over to look a his palm and show him the stains that now covered his flesh.

[31st-of-china.livejournal.com]

Sanzo'd moved a little further into the room. At the sound of shifting cloth behind him, he turned. A startled look flashed across his face before he covered it up. He hadn't expected Takasugi to follow him. He'd considered the matter over and done with. The other patient turned and knocked over one of the bookshelves, blocking the window off. It was just as well. Moments later, the opening was filled with rotting bodies shuffling past. Rotted teeth and empty eye sockets were pressed against it, straining. The bookshelf didn't give.

Takasugi turned to him and approached him. It looked like he wasn't satisfied to let the monk's words hang like that. Sanzo regarded him warily as he spoke.

The man's hand suddenly flashed out. He was fast, faster than he'd have thought, and had his wrist in an instant. Takasugi smeared the blood that was on him onto the monk's skin as he turned his hand to show the stains.

Angrily, Sanzo jerked his wrist roughly out of the grip and took a step back.

"I'm no cleaner than you are. But I don't fucking get off on killing," Sanzo snapped. "I only do it in defense. You? You do it because you actually enjoy it. Maybe you throw in some bullshit message as an excuse, but you don't do it just for defense. We aren't the same."

[onefellbeast.livejournal.com]

More justifications. More pleasantries piled one on top of the other. Takasugi had had his fill of them. His wasn't an age where men could live so complacently. In his mind, that war always continued, and he could never step foot off the battlefield.

Even now, he felt those instincts seize him, baiting him to kill whatever threat was in his way. The more Sanzo tried to distance himself, the more he thought of his comrades who continued to walk down their different paths while disregarding their origin point entirely -that man whose ideals had fueled all their wills to begin with. How many more men will lie down and allow their enemies to step all over them? How many more men will sacrifice their honor and integrity for things like money?

It continued to disgust him.

"Why wait for your enemies to strike out at you when you can be rid of them before they even have a chance. The more you play the obedient dog, the more others will treat you as if you were born as one to begin with. But you weren't. You were born wild. Untamed. Have you forgotten that part of yourself in lieu of being coated with this priestly garb?"

[31st-of-china.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/675435.html?thread=55894123#t55894123) some time later]

The world was swimming back to focus. At first, all he could see were blurry shapes, couldn't hear anything but his ragged breathing. There was something spider-like coming at him from above. Sanzo's eyes closed.

Warm liquid was pooled up under him. He was lying on his stomach. His cheek was pressed against the floor.

His eyes opened again. This time they stayed open. That shadowy shape resolved itself into the hand of one of the undead. The creature was trying to reach for him. It was only inches away. Distantly, he rolled his eyes up. He got glimpse of a rotten eye before the face wavered into that of a spider-youkai, then to centipede. More dead eyes appeared.

There wasn't any sign of Takasugi. The barricade had shifted, falling a few inches. Gaps were opening up. The things were moaning as they pressed against it, teeth gnashing. Sanzo didn't know if they had any of the basics senses. They acted like they could smell the blood heavy in the room. It seemed like it was spurring them on. More hands were joining the first through the gap, all desperately trying to reach for him.

Something brushed against his hair, something suspiciously finger-like. Without thinking, Sanzo dragged himself further away. The things went into a frenzy, wailing and groaning. The barricade creaked ominiously. Inch by inch, Sanzo pulled himself across the floor, leaving a trail of blood behind. The monk got to the base of the steps before that last bit of strength gave out.

Sanzo rested his cheek back on the floor, unable to keep his head up much longer. He'd always known that there was a good chance he'd die on the mission. If not during, most likely after. He'd just never thought it'd be like this.

He just didn't think he'd have to die with that chorus of watery moans in his ears. Sanzo would've preferred it if death had been instant. Instead, he was going to have to listen to them trying to get in while he slowly bled to death.

The monk tried to focus instead on his own harsh breathing, even as he lay there. Anything to drown out the mob at the window.

[reserved: Kenren]

[opposingheaven.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/673721.html?thread=56046521#t56046521)]


He wasn't sure what it was that made him head to the book store; a niggle at the back of his mind, or that part of his mind that wasn't really his perhaps, maybe just instinct. Maybe just that he book stores just made him believe that there had to be someone half buried in books in there as a matter of course.

Oh yeah, the swarm of the fucking zombies crowding around the damn door were kind of a giveaway that something was in there too.

As he approached, he could see the barricade that had been erected and which was now beginning to fall under the assault from the hordes of the undead. Yeah, if there was a barricade then there was definitely someone inside to need the barricade in place. You just didn't go to the effort of barricading an empty building, y'know?

He was probably going to regret this, and sometimes he really hated the fact that he didn't mind helping people, but he charged towards the door, taking a couple of the zombies by surprise and ruthlessly suppressing them. The others turned, deciding that he was more interesting, but once distracted from their goal, they seemed to be fairly easy to lead away from the door, immediate prey more appealing than something they had to wait to get at. One of them actually headed off towards a couple of nearby patients which was helpful even if Kenren couldn't help but feel a little bad.

He didn't bother trying to take the rest of them out. He smashed the legs of one and shoved it towards the others, making them stumble for a few crucial seconds before he dashed towards the door.

The barricade fell far too easily for his liking and Kenren entered without much difficulty, peering around the dark interior. The scent of blood assaulted him and he grimaced. No wonder the zombies had been drawn to the place. Speaking of...

He piled what remained of the barricade up against the door, adding whatever else he could find. It wouldn't last for long but he could at least buy some time. They could smash a window or something to get out, right?

"Hey! Anyone in here?" he called out, taking a few wary steps towards where the scent of blood was strongest.

[31st-of-china.livejournal.com]

There was a soft groan from the end of the room. A faint light came down from the stairwell, barely touching the edges of a dark heap at the bottom of the stairs. The blood rippled as something moved in the darkness.

[opposingheaven.livejournal.com]

Kenren turned quickly towards the sound, raising the crowbar defensively. That sounded far too much like the dead for his liking. He blinked at the hint of movement that he saw in the faint light, taking a wary step towards the heap. It wasn't looking like a threat just yet, but Kenren wasn't about to dismiss the possibility. He approached slowly, warily, keeping the crowbar ready at hand.

A flash of bright hair and...

"Sanzo?"

Fuck.

Without thinking, Kenren moved to his side, crouching down and grimacing at the sight of the blood which was pooled around the man's body. What the hell had happened? "Crap. We need to get you some healing right now," he murmured, more to himself than Sanzo. What the hell had the monk done?

[timeleaper.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/673721.html?thread=55972537#t55972537)]

He stepped into the building, looking around the dim interior carefully. There didn't seem to be anything waiting immediately inside, but that was no reason to throw caution to the winds. Complacency just got people injured or worse. He kicked aside some of the broken pieces of barricade and moved further into the building. The scent of blood and dead flesh hit him, but he heard no movement just yet. He turned back to the doorway where he could see Guy and Claude. "It seems safe for now," he said, although his voice was grim. "Watch out for the shrapnel."

[full-score.livejournal.com]

The bookstore was only one story high, which meant they'd probably have to try climbing up from the outside in order to get on the roof. Still, Claude didn't have any objections about taking a look inside. There could have been people trapped inside -- people he knew liked to hang out in places like this, people like Leon. And, for a split moment, the prospect of going somewhere with anyone helpless and trapped got him excited. The metallic scent of blood in the air didn't help things -- if anything, it just gave him the urge to go for something a little...fresher.

The thought was both enticing and sickening, and Claude abruptly stopped after taking several steps into the room. Just what the hell was wrong with him all of a sudden? It was hard enough to think with how much his shoulder was hurting, and now this?! With the way things were going, he felt like he was practically turning into some kind of...

...some kind of...

Claude swallowed hard, trying to still the way his heart was suddenly pounding in his chest. Some part of him was still hoping that this was part of his imagination somehow, and yet he knew that this was all too real for it to have been in his head.

He was startled out of his thoughts as his shoe kicked against something hard and small amidst all the debris. Frowning, Claude looked down, allowing the light from his hardhat to illuminate what was in front of him -- and there, he thought he saw something glinting from the floor.

"Wh-what's that?" he asked, more to himself than anyone else. It was a good distraction for now.

[nobleman]

Guy was relieved to hear that the bookstore was apparently clear for the moment, although he didn't feel so great about it when he stepped in. The stench of rotted blood was much stronger in the enclosed space, and he was forced to put a hand to his mouth as he looked around.

It was pitch dark, and Claude's head lamp only illuminated so much. He wasn't sure that there was much for them to do in a place like this, except maybe call out for survivors who might be hidden in the cramped aisles somewhere.

Getting to the roof seemed like the more pressing plan, but he wasn't quite sure how they were going to do that, especially since Claude's arm was out of commission. Maybe he and Ronixis could work together to boost the younger man up? If there were people already up there, they could probably help too.

He was about to suggest as much when Claude spoke up and Guy glanced down in the direction his friend was looking. "Not sure," he said, though he quickly bent down, knowing that it was best that Claude exerted himself as little as possible at this point. He felt the coldness of the item against his hand, and stared down at the gun as he got back to his feet.

Where had this come from? A patient must have found it and then dropped it from some reason -- Guy didn't really want to think about why. He showed it to Claude, not quite sure what to say about it. It was a lucky find, but there was no telling if it even had any bullets. In any case, it wasn't any good to him -- he had no idea how to use guns (although he'd gotten used to dodging shots from them after a few fights with Legretta). Maybe Claude or Ronixis could get use out of it, though. Guy doubted there would be much of a chance of finding its original owner, after all.

[timeleaper.livejournal.com]

Ronixis gave Claude a curious look when the young man spoke, following his gaze but not seeing very much in the faint light. He was a little too far away for the light from the headlamps to be that useful to him. He was still more preoccupied with keeping watch for anything which decided to come after them as well. He wondered if they could drag any of the bookcases or even a chair from in here to help them climb onto the roof because he wasn't certain that Claude would make it under his own power if he was already having to lean on Guy like that. But then again, if they left a chair near the wall, it would be too easy for any of the creatures to get up if they could climb. He didn't want to take that risk.

He took a step towards them when Guy picked the object up, peering at it through the gloom. His eyes widened at the sight of the gun in the man's hand. Now that wasn't something that he'd ever expected to find in a place like this. "A gun? Who would have dropped something like that?" he asked incredulously. It seemed ridiculous to drop a valuable weapon especially when they were so rare.

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

[[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/677442.html?thread=56218434#t56218434).]]

Hokuto didn't realize until they actually got to the bookstore that there was no way Falis could climb onto the roof, even with assistance. It was possible there would be someone who could carry her, but... it was such a long shot she didn't think it was worth the risk of leaving Falis alone. Instead, she helped her over to the bookstore itself, hoping to find a corner they could sit in undisturbed.

Of course, first they had to worry about getting in... the door was blocked off, but the broken window was only partially barricaded. Hokuto sighed and looked at Falis, touching her cheek to get her attention. "This might be a little tricky, since we have to go through the front window. I'll go first, then help you in."

[himetsuru.livejournal.com]

"I smell fire," Falis replied, even though there wasn't anything burning that she could see, nor any smoke. She clutched the bottle of rum in one hand and Hokuto in the other, the rum starting to numb some of the pain. Her eyes were dull and it wasn't from the rum.

Still, she nodded her acknowledgment as she let go of her girlfriend to scratch at her decaying arm again. She had yet to register why it itched so much, almost unbearable if not for the rum, and she sometimes found herself staring at Hokuto, licking her lips.

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

"I don't think it's from inside, though." At least, she really, seriously hoped not; she couldn't see any flames or smoke from inside, so that was something.

Just before Hokuto went through the window, she caught at Falis' hand again. "Easy there, you'll make it worse if you aren't careful." She didn't want to say more, because she knew nothing for certain, but... well, scratching at wounds was never good, right?

She climbed through the window as carefully as she could, checked the floor for broken glass, and kicked a few pieces out of the way before turning back to Falis and holding out her hand. "Come on."

[himetsuru.livejournal.com]

"Huh?" Eyes clouding with confusion, Falis looked from the hand Hokuto was gripping to her arm. She blinked slowly. "Oh." That really wasn't good.

Taking another swig of rum, the hunter cocked her head and literally tipped her head back to scent the air. Something above them smelled very good. A couple something's, to be exact. She didn't notice Hokuto calling to her.