damned_institute | Nightshift 43: Entry Room

Now, wasn't this unfortunate? Someone had casually wandered into the den of a beast, and Takasugi could only watch from where he stood, his back reclined casually against the wall. His pipe sat between his lips as he took a slow drag, letting the stench fill the air.

He didn't recognize this man at all but only knew one crucial thing: he mustn't let him pass through the doors behind him. Whether or not he would even survive this interlude was another matter entirely, but Takasugi had little in the way of mercy when it came to dealing with those who worked for the Amanto.

That's what they all were, weren't they? Sitting on all fours, allowing the Amanto to tether them and control them. Every last patient here was an enemy to him, and he couldn't stand the very sight of them, that killer instinct erupting immediately as he sought to finally show them his claws and take revenge.

His lips quirked upwards as he slid his pipe into the sleeve of his yukata and began to take slow and measured steps towards his guest.

"I'm afraid things must come to an end so soon after we've met." A dry chuckle as his fingers skittered over the sheath of his katana. "I can promise it'll be quick, but it won't be painless."

Rey's eyes widened, as he turned towards the source of voice. Shining his flashlight over the man, he forced himself to relax once more. So this was the result of Special Counseling--the brainwashing? If that was the case, then he could indeed say his luck had run out. He hadn't missed the sword, and while he didn't consider himself to be weak, that was only in his world, where he knew what to expect. Here, who knew? Rey wasn't so confident to believe that a knife alone could easily take down a swordsman. Dimly, he wondered if he was going to make it to the end of the night.

Maybe he was going to die here, alone, in a place like this. It'd be a joke to say that Rey was afraid of death, but dying like that held no appeal for him. He didn't want his life to end the same way it'd begun.

As the intercom buzzed and spoke and the other patient approached, Rey stepped back, waiting for him to strike, while keeping his eyes and flashlight trained on him. If the light was bothering the man, then all for the better.

Did he have any intention of fighting or would self-preservation kick in and leave him running for his life? It was difficult to gauge as Takasugi moved closer, ignoring the light that hit his face. After spending so many years being blind in his left eye, he'd long ago learned to rely on his other senses when fighting to compensate for the grievous blind spot that now hindered him.

He wouldn't let this one escape even if he tried, anger still seething through him. That rage could never be quelled so easily, not when he still had those memories deeply embedded into his mind of what the Amanto had done to his people -to all of his men and to his home. This Amanto sympathizer would be cut down and learn the weight of his actions once the steel of Takasugi's blade severed his flesh. He longed to spill the walls in his blood and to paint the world around him in vivid reds, that desire seething through him until the urgency was almost unbearable.

Another few steps drew him closer, his sandals rasping against the floor as his grin widened and his fingers closed around the hilt of his sword. "Come now. Do you think that alone will stop me? Running won't do you much good, either."

Edited 2009-09-04 15:32 (UTC)

Not really, but it was better than trying to fight with his fists alone. His mouth pressed into a line, Rey took another step back, this time in the direction of the door to the hallway. Backing up to the wall wasn't exactly the greatest idea, after all. He knew the situation wasn't to his advantage at all, but if the man wasn't going to let him leave, then he had no choice but to fight and survive until he found the opportunity to--even if the possibility of death seemed to be growing larger by the moment.

Still watching him carefully, Rey tightened his grip around the knife and hoped for the best. He wasn't the most optimistic of people, but as someone who'd dedicated his life to fighting for his ideals, he knew better than to quit or surrender before he even started. Although he may have given up on his life in his world, that was because he'd done all he needed to there. Here, there was no point in writing himself off as a lost cause just yet, outmatched or not.

Was he starting to show some fight? Perhaps it wouldn't be a slaughter after all Takasugi mused as he observed the man's face transform with renewed determination. It was a face that spoke of a will to survive and not allow himself to be trampled here. How it would stand against his own murderous intent was another matter entirely because Takasugi certainly had no intention of holding back that beast that was feverishly throwing itself against the side of its cage inside of him.

No, he would let it break through those bars and feast itself tonight, consume what it could while its claws were in full view. He had no reason to ignore its roar, even if there was this nagging voice in the back of his mind reminding him not to kill -only to tame. Could he be that merciful with this filth staring down at him? Takasugi was a man who lived only to destroy and had forsaken any and all moral inhibitions long ago. Now, the only thing that mattered to him was watching them all die and taking revenge for those cries that had been silenced.

For those words of wisdom uttered by Shoyou-sensei that had been stifled. For that world he'd grown up in that had been turned into a modern wasteland. For the comrades who had died while fighting alongside him.

Anger continued to ebb through him, a throbbing sensation that traveled along his veins until his sword was drawn with a loud hiss. He didn't waste another second, his body hunching slightly as he moved to attack, aiming the blade towards this man's mid-section and hoping to cut him down in one slice.

Edited 2009-09-04 17:39 (UTC)

Damn it, he was fast. Rey barely had time to jump back, gritting his teeth in pain as blood was still drawn. He paid the wound no attention--it wasn't life threatening at the moment, and he had bigger things to worry about. At least he was a little closer to the door.

Reminding himself that his objective was not to win, but to escape, he didn't move to attack the man. That would only distance himself from the exit further, so instead he again waited for his opponent to strike first. All he needed to do was leave the area to somewhere more populated, or to survive until the night ended. Neither pride nor defeating this man was needed.

He wasn't running? He must truly wish to die. Not that Takasugi had any personal objections to tethering this man to the institute by removing his legs. He had a good chance now and since he was letting that opportunity go to waste -- Takasugi smiled again, moving in for another blow.

This time, he aimed straight for his shoulder, crossing the space between them and swinging downwards with his sword, planning on disabling him a bit further.

Ignoring the pain in his mid-section, Rey barely evaded the swing, moving to the side, although the sword instead slashed down on the back of his hand when he did so. Accidentally, his hand stinging badly, he dropped the flashlight, the beam swinging around the room. Without missing a beat, he stabbed forward with his knife, aiming for the man's hip, all the while hoping this would work. Not anymore than he cared about surviving, he didn't care if he ended up killing him. That was how the battlefield worked.

The knife hadmet its target, cutting him across the hip, but it wasn't enough to deter him. The blade was too small to have much of an impact, and it just left a shallow wound that bled onto his yukata. In terms of wounds, Takasugi has had far worse and has to fight with far worse, so he could ignore the sting, only wincing slightly before he slashed outwards, aiming to drive this man back against the door.

His sword swung in an arc across his chest, and he grit his teeth, swinging out again, not giving him any time to recover. With each swing, he took a step forward, ready to pin him against the door behind him with his sword if he had to.

"Your face shows such an intriguing lack of fear. Do you not feel pain? Or am I being too soft?"

Edited 2009-09-08 22:07 (UTC)

Unfortunately, Rey's attack left him with little time to dodge his opponent's. He hissed as the sword cut through his skin, thankful it wasn't a deeper wound. He didn't move fast enough for the second swing either, letting out a brief cry. Fortunately, he managed to avoid gaining any serious injuries with the next few, though his wounds protested with his every moment. Or perhaps unfortunately, as that required him to constantly back up. At this rate he was going to be cornered--actually, he was now, as his foot met the door.

Damn it, he thought, his eyes widening slightly.

--He only wished he didn't feel pain.

Takasugi recognize that look of desperation, the fear that suddenly came to life in his eyes. The man was a cornered rat waiting to be devoured while Takasugi had all his teeth in display. It was a disappointing fight, though, the man having hardly retaliated at all. It left much to be desired, but Takasugi wasn't particularly interested in being given a hard time.

It was such a shame that he didn't run earlier. He could have spared himself a great deal of pain, but he knew little of the flames his hands were hovering over and how likely he was to be burnt.

Reaching out with his free hand, Takasugi closed his fingers around the man's throat and slammed him against the door, firmly holding him there as the tip of his sword rose to cut along the angle of his cheek bones. "More... I just want to see you suffer a little bit more for what your kind did to me. My home. Shoyou-sensei. Does it hurt, yet?"

Lights flashed in Rey's vision when his head slammed against the door, though he quickly regained his senses. Oddly enough, any fear he might have felt in the last few moments were drained out of him, as the finality of the situation sunk into him. He was going to die, wasn't he? At the same time, it brought both bitterness and relief. He'd rather have died the way he intended to, with the captain and Gil, but it really couldn't be helped.

Gil...

"My kind...?" Rey repeated quietly after the man spoke, looking into his eyes, allowing his typical calmness to wash over him. Rey doubted he was talking about genetic type, so it was likely just an effect of the brainwashing.

And yes, it did hurt, as the slash wounds stung and bled--an unfamiliar sensation. He was well-acquainted with pain, but that of a different kind. Even so, the man's words, strangely enough, invoked a sense of determination in Rey, cutting through the haze of grief and confusion he'd built up for the past few days. Sadly, he didn't have much room to move, but he decided to do what he could. Swiftly, he brought his hand up, still holding the knife, hoping to stab into the man's arm.

The sword penetrated through his arm, making Takasugi release his victim instantly as blood started to drip out at an alarming rate, staining the floor beneath him. It had been a direct slice, one that stabbed through his flesh and cut to the bone, making him wince as the pain burst through. Fortunately, his sword arm had been spared, which meant he could retaliate for the wound imparted on him.

It figured an Amanto would stoop to such a low attack rather than fight him honorably. He expected nothing less of them anymore, and he used it to fuel his fury as he quickly swung out towards the man and pressed the tip of his sword into his shoulder, driving it deep. Again, there was that insistence that he didn't kill him. That he only wound them enough to be obedient, which seemed rather irrational for someone like him who had spent most of his life killing the Amanto without a single ounce of mercy or regret.

As the sword drove into his shoulder, Rey accidentally let go of the knife in the opposite hand, due to the brief shock that settled in. For a moment, his mind didn't register what had happened, until the realization struck, along with the pain. He let out a choked cry, because damn it, that hurt. All he could hope for was that the weapon had missed the bone, although his shoulder was temporarily useless either way.

Honestly though, he didn't know how long he could keep escaping death, with his wounds stinging even harder now and his strength fading away. And yet, what other choice did he have but to try? In another attempt to do something, he swung his fist up, the same one that had been holding the knife, aiming for the man's jaw, despite his injuries heavily protesting against the movement.

That one- Takasugi had expected and even readily dodged, jerking his head away from his fist before it could connect. The man was getting desperate now, but it was too late. Takasugi had made him his prey, had already drawn more than just his first blood. The sword was still pressed into him, and all he had to do was twist it even more, make the wound bigger and slice away at his putrid flesh.

Yes, more. More. Takasugi wanted him to suffer greater loss for what he'd done. Those whom he had given hiss assistance to. Such a fowl being shouldn't exist, and he wanted to rid himself of this trash. His mind was reinforced with images of what they'd done -the flames that piled high in the sky of what used to be his home. The screams of his comrades. The tears dried on his face. The steal cutting into his own eye. Everything.

He wanted to hear him cry out and wanted to see him struggle in the same way he'd watched his own men be broken. "What was that?" Takasugi murmured, his grin returning, "I didn't quite hear you."

Pain erupted in Rey's shoulder as the sword was twisted, and he let out another strangled sound. The man's words were barely reaching him now, as he struggled to hold onto his thoughts. For a second, he wondered where the hell Shinn and Lunamaria were, before remembering that right, they weren't here. They were back in his world, doing who knew what. Rau was dead, Gil was dead, and Rey could only guess as to what happened to the captain. He was alone.

Maybe it was the pain and blood loss, but he actually found that a little amusing, in a bitter sort of way. He couldn't fully explain why--thinking on its own took enough energy--but it just was. It was almost worth laughing at, but he'd never been one for that. As things stood, he settled for taking in shaky breaths, trying to hold back his voice and stay coherent in his mind. It was like a storm of pain, misery, and the same bitter amusement in there, and he just wanted it to stop.

Takasugi continued to watch as the thoughts flitted across his face -pain. Pain. So excruciating yet so well-deserved. He himself had felt greater than just a sword wound. He'd witnessed them destroy his entire life right before his eyes. Everything that had ever held meaning had been ignited and cast away, leaving him with such an empty and pathetic world.

None of it had any meaning. None of it.

His lips continued to pull over his teeth like a monster showing off its fangs as he wrenched more blood out of his body. He wouldn't kill him. There was still that compulsion not to. He would only leave him suffering as he was.

There was the intercom again, as Rey began to feel his mind slip away into unconsciousness, as he continued to lose blood. It was louder this time, a blur of words to his ears while he half-focused on staying awake. One voice, though, stood out, catching his attention immediately. It was his own, even though he wasn't saying anything. Not just that, but the words--they were from that time, the one he didn't want to remember but had to because he was afraid of what would happen if he forgot. All he could think was that he was becoming delusional, especially when another voice spoke.

"I see..." It couldn't possibly be real, Rey knew, but just hearing the man again only strengthened his grief, and he was almost thankful for the pain to distract him. It was a voice he was so used to hearing, yet one he wouldn't ever hear in person again.

"... Gil..." he murmured through shaky breaths, not even aware that he was speaking.

I'm sorry.

The sword was slowly withdrawn, taking with it more of this man's blood. It pooled on the ground just beneath the feet in angry rivulets, ensuring he wouldn't be running anywhere in a while. He was still alive but not by much, which was satisfactory enough for Takasugi. As long as he progressed no further than where he lay, he could remain there for as long as he wished.

It was just a shame that it couldn't have lasted longer -that he'd barely even put up much of a fight against him. It left him hungering, that craving so intense that he just wanted to spill more and more of their blood. It dug at him, twisted his insides, making him want and want and want. Not just this man. Every single last of the Amanto should be made to suffer. This barely scraped the edge of what he wanted to accomplish.

"It might do you well to remain lying there until morning. I'm afraid trying to retaliate would only prove to have a poor consequence for you."

It was just as he had expected. The intensity of the fight was such that Lunge was able to slip into the gloom gathered around the room's edges, dark clouds of shadows bordering the battlefield. Hugging the wall he maneuvered himself carefully to the entrance of a smaller room on his right; the name place on the door read 'File Room 1' and, sure enough, it was locked. 'Jung, Otto' would be in the first half of the files. Presumably, this was it.

Teeth clenched to prevent any sounds from escaping, Lunge pressed a shoulder to the door and held the handle down. One, two, and-- he suddenly forced hard on the door. The lock cracked in gentle protest and the door eased open.

He glanced towards the samurai and the patient. As unfortunate as it was that the young man was left to fend for himself, Lunge had a job to do. Without looking back he stepped into the file room and shut the door behind him.

Nightshift 43: Entry Room

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