damned_institute | Night 43: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

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Night 43: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

[from here]

The halls were empty so far, which was probably a good sign. Suzaku was hoping to get a move-on quickly, so they could hurry up and get Yuffie's sword made. The first night he'd been here, he'd been pulled back to his bed the instant he made it outside, so they'd have to move fast if they wanted to make any decent progress. And right now he couldn't afford to focus on anything but just that, making progress.

[to here]

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

Another hallway, featureless as the last two. There were doors at either end, and after exiting the previous hallway, he paused here, his back pressed against the wall to avoid being snuck up on - because the situation had, in fact, gained some kind of urgency in its strangeness - he looked both ways, considering his options. To his left there was a long hallway and an open door. Despite the poor vision in his right eye, if he squinted, he got the feeling that it lead outside, or to some large open space. To his right, the hallway seemed to continue.

For the moment, Doumeki felt a little safer indoors, and so he opted to take the indoor route. Pushing away from the wall, he padded in his hospital slippers down the hallway, golden eyes on alert.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702705.html?view=57997297#t57997297)]

These hallways were always crowded. That was nothing new and nothing Matt shouldn't have expected. He turned off his own flashlight in order to save batteries, relying instead on the light from others'. It also helped to keep himself hidden. Even if he didn't plan on attacking anyone in this hallway, he had to look at least somewhat demented - mostly because he was somewhat demented. After last night, and what with things as they were now (Would this ever go away? Would he be stuck as some sort of half-zombie every time night came around, now? What a sick joke.) no one could say his sanity was a hundred percent intact.

He froze as someone came just a little too close, their scent just a little too strong, and had to slap a hand over his mouth again with a short choking noise. Not here. He was too out in the open here...

Another sharp movement out of the corner of his eye. Doumeki turned his head towards it, expecting it to be gone like some kind of phantasm, like the other ones he'd been seeing all night, but it didn't end up being like that.

It was a boy, who slapped a hand over his mouth, looking ill and like he was injured. Doumeki's brows furrowed for a moment, and he took a step just a bit closer.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice low. Partially because he didn't want to startle the young man again, as he seemed to have been already. He really looked worse for the wear, and Doumeki started glancing down over the clothing he wore to see if there was something that could be used to help.

"I'm fine." Matt answered quickly, too quickly, and jerked away from the other boy until he was backed against the wall. This patient, like so many others, wasn't dolled up like Edgeworth had been. His arms were bare and far too easy a target for his teeth.

It was sickening, thinking that way. Matt was close to having a fit, so torn between wanting to follow the hunger and wanting to stab himself to put others out of danger. But he just wasn't strong enough for the latter, and a helpful person would easily put his or herself at risk. He would be easier to pull away into a darkened room. Easier to get alone.

If he was smart, he'd keep walking.

Doumeki took a slight step back, his brows furrowing as the boy jumped back from him and pressed against the wall. Something was very obviously wrong - there was something entirely wrong about the sense he was getting from him too.

"What is it?" he asked, tilting his head, staring at him. Unfortunately, Doumeki wasn't the type to just keep walking. To him, the boy looked like he was in obvious distress, and this place...it was strange. Dark, and glitchy around the edges, things flitting in and out of vision. It wasn't safe here, and if this boy was sick, then he needed help.

"Do you need to be walked back to your room?" he asked, his voice low, leaning down to peer at him.

No. No, just keep going. I'll only try to eat you. "Y-yes. ...Yes, that would probably be best." Matt slumped in defeat. To the other boy, it would seem as though he was simply wary about accepting help.

All he had to do was find an empty room. It didn't have to be his own, would be better if it wasn't, actually. Hopefully the good Samaritan would survive, and in that case he wouldn't want him being able to find him at his room later. During the day the orderlies would at least be able to fend him off... "It's just back down that hallway."

This was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Doumeki could understand why someone in a place like this might be a bit reluctant to accept help, but thankfully the boy gave in. He gave a nod when he said it would be best to get back to his room.

"Alright. Which room are you in?" he asked, his voice low as if trying to avoid bringing too much attention to them. Probably a safe bet in a place like this.

Glancing down the hallway the boy had pointed out, Doumeki shifted to get his balance and held a hand out to the boy, "I'm Doumeki. What's your name?" he asked, since it was getting a bit troublesome to keep referring to him so generically. And it was only polite to introduce oneself first, after all.

"Robin." Matt thought quickly, trying to recall what rooms he saw people leaving from on the way out of his own. M58 was a no-go. There'd been a man heading in that one. M60 was also out - he'd seen that little blond kid there.

"My room is M57," he finally answered, recalling having seen it vacated by its two younger occupants. "I'm really sorry about this."

Of course, it wasn't the need for assistance he was apologizing for, but the terrible thing he'd yet to do.

"Good to meet you, Robin." Doumeki said, his voice still low to avoid detection from the other people - or, more importantly, the other things - that were lurking in the hallways. Doumeki himself was aware of the strange auras in the place, the sense of pressure, like there were spirits here, lurking out of his vision. It was why he hadn't bothered asking for Watanuki on the bulletin board. He could tell he wasn't here, because the spirits were invisible to him.

He was separated by at least one world, maybe many, from the objective he'd been working to complete for more than a year.

Glancing down at Robin, he took note of the room number, M57, in case he felt the need to check up on him later. The apology caught him almost off-guard, and he shook his head, "It's nothing."

Matt shuddered, then pulled away from the wall, still clutching his rotting arm.

"It's not too far."

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702705.html?thread=58184433#t58184433)]

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Night 43: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

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