NIGHTSHIFT 43: M1 - M10 CORRIDOR

[stiffserpent.livejournal.com]

Ignoring the pain in his broken arm, Snake crept along the hallway. He had brought only the matches and hairspray with him, hooked into the band of his pants, needing no light. His feet made no sound. Even that vision of the corridor earlier hadn't phased him like his much-loved old Outer Heaven flashbacks usually did, as he was far too focused on his mission.

He had been checking the men's block rooms, one at a time. Most of them were vacated; some were not, and even the sounds of movement inside those ones were enough to reassure him that they were not the rooms that belonged to Big Boss.

Systematically, he started down the furthest corridor in the block to the south of his own, starting with room M10. The door was, of course, unlocked, and he cautiously pushed it open. Like many of the others, it seemed empty, but for less than a second he caught a trace of Big Boss's smell. It was enough to lure him into the room, even though no-one was visible. Had he imagined it?

[M10]

Comments

[pseudovirtueman.livejournal.com]

Even as Fox still explained, Big Boss carefully reached up and had one hand run down Fox's back, from his neck down to his hips, knitting a brow and staring critically down at the soft blue glow that was coming from the length of his spine, underneath the scarred skin. He'd never seen something like that before; it was almost pretty if you forgot about where it was and how it had gotten there...whatever it was.

He knew all too well how it felt to have mechanic, foreign parts attached to your body, shoved under your skin; and despite the painkillers he'd gotten back then it had hurt just as much as if they hadn't given him any.

Because he he had a pretty good idea and didn't want to ask about what surely must have been torture, Big Boss remained quiet at first, but the cold disgust he was feeling right now was audible in his voice when he spoke next.

"What does it do?"

[prisonerofdeath.livejournal.com]

The hand running down his spine made Fox slightly and noticeably tense. He wasn't often touched by others in such a manner, and it felt strange. Because it was Big Boss, Fox didn't pull away from it. He did turn his head so he could at least partially see Big Boss, though. It wasn't necessary, he could see him with the sense provided with the very implant they were discussing, but it was more reassuring to be able to see his face and expression.

"It gives me a form of radar. Everything in this room... I can see it, the outlines and shapes, the surfaces of the walls and chairs, but I can't distinguish detail, especially on people," Fox closed his eyes for a moment, instead concentrating on that ability.

[pseudovirtueman.livejournal.com]

"A radar..."

Big Boss pulled back his hand, in his head going through the radar technology he was familiar with. He'd mostly done without hi-tech equipment while still being in charge of FOXHOUND; until the late 90s, when Campbell took over command (again) and changed the unit at its core -- or at least, that's what it had felt like to him as an observer.

But in a sense, it was still an advantage. A questionable one (an unnatural one), but still.

"Why would they give you that? Does it hurt?"

[prisonerofdeath.livejournal.com]

"Because they're experimenting. It's painful, and it seems to always take something away, but in exchange you get something. In my case I've lost the ability to sneak around because of the light, but I've got the radar instead," And the traumatic memories of that night, but there was no need to mention that. "I think they take them every night, now. Some to brainwash and turn against us and others to experiment on. I've never heard of anyone being taken twice, though."

That was all the important, relevant information and Fox lapsed into silence, his head tilted forward slightly as he found something interesting in the lower half of the room to look at. Fox turned his head to the side slightly and glanced at the door, a very subtle gesture but it gave away that his thoughts had turned to Snake.

[pseudovirtueman.livejournal.com]

"Explains the apparent chaos at night," Big Boss said, "It's just a huge game to them, an experiment. Sometimes the rules get changed, often on a whim, and only the strongest survive, in the end." And there are also those that sacrifice themselves for others.

The concept wasn't new to him. It wasn't so much the setting itself that bothered him, but the circumstances and the whole compulsion that came with the affair. And the pointlessness of it all.

Big Boss heaved a sigh, well aware of where Fox's thoughts were right now. His own were all over the place, but even he was slowly, grudgingly beginning to realize that he had to direct his energy elsewhere. There was a good chance that he had incapacitated Snake for a while, anyway; and where'd be the fun in granting him another favor and killing him now?

He had time. He had been patient for over twenty years, so he could wait a little while longer. Imagining Snake's dead and broken body lying in front of him would be motivation enough to get out of here as soon as possible.

And then him.

Yes.

"He wet his pants," Big Boss said, half annoyed, half amused, "I better lend him a pair of my own if you don't want him to smell like piss for the rest of the night. I bet some of the creatures out there have sensitive noses."

That said, he left the room for the hallway. After that he'd map out the place as far as he could; find out where they kept the supplies.

And try to remember what exactly went into a homemade bomb.