damned_institute | NIGHTSHIFT 43: M1

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NIGHTSHIFT 43: M1 - M10 CORRIDOR

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]

Threaded | Flat

Junpei was restless, he was in pain, and he was hungry. Out of all three, the last was the one that bothered him the most. He'd eaten all of his dinner, every last bit, just in case having a full stomach would stop him from wanting to find a midnight snack. He'd been wrong and the dull ache in his stomach was almost too much for him.

He wasn't going to admit it, but he was scared. What if he couldn't control himself? What if he bit Chidori? Even worse, what if he bit Ryouji and it got taken in the wrong way?

Baseball bat resting on his lap, Junpei purposefully avoided looking at the rotting mass that was his ankle. His other foot bounced impatiently as he waited for Ryouji to show up. This totally blew.

At first glance, the room was perfectly silent -- and empty. It was the one Big Boss had awoken in just a couple of hours ago, at noon on the same day, and which he apparently shared with another guy who's acquaintance he hadn't been able to make yet. But it wasn't like he would have been interested either way. There were other people he had to take care of first.

He could almost smell Snake approaching from a mile away, and it came as no surprise to him. According to all the explanations he had gotten so far, and what he'd been able to read on the bulletin board, all doors were open and no one was under surveillance of the nurses at night. Snake would take his chances.

So would Big Boss. He watched him attentively from his corner, making no sound. Like a moth to the flame. Even though it was dark, it was easy to identify the other man. The limp arm in the sling was a pretty good indicator already, if you disregarded his build and the whole way he moved. Lightly, treading carefully, techniques Big Boss knew all too well. However did he find out where his former commander roomed, though?

Details. He would have found his way anyway. They were alone now, and could continue where they had left off. The monsters would have to stay outside tonight; and he wouldn't let anyone else interfere, either. Once they had settled this score, he (they?) could move onto other things. Eventually.

It was stupid to act like this, but neither of them was known to act very rational when dealing with obsession and certain other, pressing urges. The door Snake had just walked through slammed shut with a bang that might have been heard by anyone who was currently in the block. As soon as his copy turned to check what had caused the noise, Big Boss struck, right where it hurt the most -- his shoulder, and executed a CQC throw which would land Snake face-first -- arm first -- on the hard ground.

Dean still didn't know what to make of Howell. He hadn't exactly got used to Angel, either, and it wasn't like he'd had time to. Spending all these years on the road, getting cramped into motel after motel with Sam and Dad, and then just Sam, Dean was still getting used to the idea of having a guy sharing the room who wasn't his brother. It was kinda weird to be actually missing the days where you got into stupid fights about who got the best bed and if a sink was a good place to hang your socks (Dean's opinion was yeah it was, 'cause where else was he gonna hang 'em?). Howell seemed pretty sane, if a little bit...he didn't know, Dean couldn't really place his finger on it. Not all there? Then again, getting friggen kidnapped and waking up to find yourself in a place, and he couldn't blame him. Still, the fact was he didn't know just how trustworthy Howell was. He'd trusted Angel just enough to not go stabbing him in the back.

He waited until he had the room to himself before changing into his real clothes, glad to get rid of the patient get-up and feel like a normal guy, slipping his necklace over his head. Last night had somehow netted him a sheath for that bowie knife, but he wasn't gonna complain, instead strapping the belt around his waist and letting his leather jacket hang over it, concealing it just outta habit. Checking the flashlight, he found it was dead, but fishing around through the drawers, he came up with a spare pair.

There was a whole lot more crazy on the intercom from HAL. Dean wasn't sure what to make of it, except that he had some potential spirits he needed to take care of ASAP, and that would have to be enough for now. One thing at a time. The hunter geared up, splitting the salt he had into one of the patient shirts and bundling it up so he could carry it to Sam's room, before stepping outside.

[And Dean's off to here]

Edited 2009-08-30 00:58 (UTC)

Sora had heard the rustling of Hanatarou getting dressed, making sure to wait until he was absolutely certain that his roommate was decent before he stood up from his seat and turned around to face the other boy. There was something about Hanatarou's tone that confused Sora.

"Does Arts and Crafts not want your help?" he asked with a tilt of his head. He'd never gotten that impression from the club leaders, though he realized that Hitsugaya was definitely the deadly serious type. Maybe the History Club people were a little more friendly.

Still, the shinigami were Hanatarou's friends, weren't they? It just didn't make much sense to Sora, and yet he didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable...

It was at that point that the intercom came on -- it was still that computer, but it was different now. Sora realized he shouldn't have been that surprised by it (everything changed at night), but that didn't defeat the fact that it was creepy. The boy let out a sigh and went into his desk for his flashlight. Unsettling or not, he couldn't make Hitsugaya wait.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703812.html).]

For a moment, when Endrance rounded the corner, he looked away, flushing a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening in the room at the end of that hallway, but it certainly sounded like...something that would be far too rude to give further thought to. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away, then moved on, stopping just outside Haseo's room.

There was the moment's temptation to fling the door open, but Endrance really didn't think Haseo would take terribly kindly to that, given what had happened the last time. That gave him a moment to think, then, and he paced back and forth down the hallway, absorbed in thought. Who was it I sensed earlier? I still don't think it was Atoli...then, was it...

He thought back to everything Haseo had said that first morning at breakfast. If he went so far as to betray us all, then I can't put it past him - past this place? No, past him, to get at Haseo by acting like a visitor. That would explain the strong feeling...

Endrance sighed heavily. If this had been any other place, he would have been running the minute he'd felt that sensation. But as it was, what could he have done? The thought troubled him.

Edited 2009-08-30 02:02 (UTC)

There was an announcement that sounded like some sort of computer malfunction, something Doumeki didn't particularly understand. Something about a password denied...

Brushing it off (though he noted it, in case it was important), he stood, his brows furrowed as he heard the doors unlock. Waiting for a while before he decided to try it, he got up and crossed to the door, pushing it open. He emerged into a hallway, with a dead end at one end, and the entrance to another hallway.

With only a moment's hesitation, eyes flicking back and forth at the strange shapes he could see out of the corners of his eyes - something he was used to, to some extent, since he'd started sharing vision with Watanuki - he started toward the next hallway. Perhaps he could learn more about this place.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702746.html?thread=57894170#t57894170)]

Edited 2009-08-30 12:15 (UTC)

Otacon stepped out of M3 just seconds after the echoing bang sounded nearby — too close nearby. He froze in front of his door, but there were no other noises except other patients going through the dark hallway, and snatches of conversation coming out of the rooms. No one else seemed perturbed by the slamming sound, and why would they? It was a textbook horror game tactic to freak out players with random loud background noises.

It's nothing, Otacon told himself, then added self-deprecatingly: You're getting old. It didn't do much to settle his nerves (which had little to do with the Silent Hill-esque ambiance, as much as he didn't want to think about it), but it was enough to get him moving. He switched on his flashlight and walked swiftly—

—only to stop again when he heard a yell a few doors down, the same yell he'd heard countless times before screaming into his ear over the Codec. The words must be my imagination flickered through Otacon's head, but this time, he didn't smile.

Something was definitely wrong.

Howl excused himself as soon as the doors opened. His roommate was not the friendliest individual, but that actually won him a few points. It was a bit of a reprieve to spend time with someone who was not interested in pressing Howl for detailed information, and didn't seem interested in overtures of friendship. It gave him time to relax and prepare for the meeting with Ryuuzaki, who was full of questions. He was practically bubbling over with them.

Howl sighed heavily, and in the darkness allowed himself to look as miserable as he felt. Light, journal, makeshift ruler, pens... It was a sad set of supplies for what he needed to do, but it would have to suffice.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703215.html?thread=57968879#t57968879).]

Edited 2009-08-31 03:46 (UTC)

[from here]

Why, oh why did it have to be at the other end of the hallway? The night had just started, and Kitty had already just about had it with all the hallways this hospital had. Oh well. It wasn't like she could do anything to change that, and she'd reached the room without running into anything mean or nasty along the way, so that was something to definitely be grateful for.

She ran along the length of the hall, passing a couple others along the way, before finally stopping in front of M1. Once there, it was all she could do to keep from simply going straight in. She often did that back home after all. But, Kitty reminded herself, this wasn't the Xavier Institute and there was no telling how Kurt's roommate would react to something like that. So, she raised a hand and knocked on the door instead.

"Kurt, you in there? It's Kitty."

True to his word, Dist had absolutely no intention of staying in his room all night. Once the door unlocked(and he located the flashlight in his room -- this place was weird) he made his way out into the hall. Finding nothing immediately interesting, he turned to head down the hall.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/699228.html?thread=58431068#t58431068).]

Snake managed to make it to the opposite wall without passing out.

Touching the cold, slick outer wall with his chest, he gave a futile groan and collapsed bodily against it, sliding down to the floor. Rolling around as best as he could to sit up against the wall, he disgustingly imagined what he must look like right now - half-naked, face smashed in, torso bruised and criss-crossed in deep cuts, covered in grainy, clotting blood and reeking of his own piss. Some date that was.

The first thing he did was snap his thumb back into place with his teeth, biting down on it reflexively as it snapped back into place. He rolled it around in its socket a few times, and then a wave of dizziness caught him and he slumped against the wall, chin on his chest, breathing heavily. The walls around him appeared to be breathing in and out, heaving like his chest. That was a sign he'd lost a lot more blood that he ought to have done.

His eyes rolled from Big Boss's door to the dark stain on his pants to Otacon, and he eventually managed to say, "I told you not to come here. You put yourself in too much danger. What were you thinking?"

Some time after Tsukasa left, before leaving their room Kvothe reached under his pillow for his flashlight and grasped the hilt of the knife he'd found the night before instead. He grinned fiercely to himself and went to the closet to find something to use as a sheath and discovered the green coat he'd been wearing had somehow turned up there as well, and it hadn't suffered to badly while escaping from the zombies. He pulled it on and grabbed a sweater, the end of a sleeve once cut off and the end tied made a passable bag for the blade. He was ignoring the strange sounds and voices over the intercom as best he could, they were incredibly unsettling but so were most things about this place.

Something about the atmosphere seemed even more oppressive than usual as he moved out into the hallway. The darkness was more oppressive than usual, his skin crawled like he was being watched but when he shown his flashlight nothing was there. Surely he'd only imagined the flicker of movement, the barely seen glint of the beam off a nightmareish smile. It was all in his head.

Until he turned back around and there was a man standing in front of him. He took a startled step back, eyes wide with disbelief. No, it couldn't be. His father died when he was twelve. He tried to speak but his throat was too tight, his hand shook...and when the light returned to where the man was standing there was nothing there. He desperately searched the hallway but couldn't find anyone. Or anything. Badly shaken, he returned to his room for the moment, needing a chance to collect himself. He pulled his coat more closely around himself as he sat on the bed, staring at the circle of light the flashlight beam made on the opposite wall, trying to ward off a chill that wasn't physical.

Threaded | Flat

M8

M10

Leaving M2 [after Howl]

no subject

[currently pacing between M4 and M9]

[leaving M5]

no subject

Leaving M2 [before Dean]

Outside M1

no subject

no subject

M9