Night 53: M51-M60 Hallway

[longlivetehking]

The doors had not even unlocked and Landel had already began granting them more examples of his cryptic rambles. Hnn. Perhaps Scar was growing paranoid after all this time, but it almost sounded as though as if he had yet another surprise in store for them, be it tonight or tomorrowThe doors finally unlocked, and the former lion moved into the

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Re: M55

[sixth_attack]

What felt like hours of releasing his rage later, Sechs finally came to his senses when he heard distant music followed by a familiar voice fizzling out of his radio. Blinking and panting from exhaustion, Sechs found himself slouched over the edge of his bed, surrounded by the mauled pieces of his chair and the deep scars it left on the walls. The radio was powered on upon the desk, its message vague and not terribly comforting to its listener. The Replica's ears strained to understand, tingling with slight excitement at what he recognized as the sound of a shot gun being readied.

The radio man made no mentioning of Jill, no disasters against him or the Second World group. Just another question to add to the already huge pile of questions Sechs and everyone else already had. Eagle? Landel did mention that name once at one point didn't he? It was tough for Sechs to remember, what with all the sedatives that had been pumped into his arms throughout the day...

It didn't matter now. Sechs had finished expelling the worst of his rage and guilt over his visit with Javert. He was still heaving and panting from his fit, but his head felt clearer now, like a cloud of pollution had been cleared from his brain. It didn't change the fact that he may have been the one who failed to protect the information of the notes, but he couldn't do anything about it now. He had Recluse to deal with.

Ready for the night, Sechs rose to his feet and kicked the scattered parts of the chair out of his way. He quietly put on the remaining pieces of his armor, his emotions were far too deep inside to show on his blank face. He gathered his things; the axe, machete, one of the metal pipes from his first roommate and the teleportation ring. Sechs decided against bringing the radio, it seemed its announcer wasn't planning to broadcast anymore messages for the night. Lastly, Sechs picked up the flashlight and tested its power; it flickered slightly in his hand, but managed to keep up a steady beam of light, he would have to find new batteries for it soon.

Finally, Sechs put on the finishing touches to his battle gear: the single bold "6" on his temple. Remembering Michelangelo's words from the last night they spent together, Sechs was sure to correctly draw the number on his skin this time.

Ready at last, Sechs approached the door and slowly opened it. He was greeted by both the darkness of the hallway, and the sinister kind festering in his mind.

"Why won't you let me take over for ya?" the shadow hissed, its liquid form slithering just out of the corner of Sechs' eye. "You won't have to deal with all this pain or responsibility anymore. You're not fit for this, you weren't designed for it!"

Sechs winced and clamped his hand against the back of his cold neck. Not now! Leave me alone! He focused on that same light that helped him before, but its luminosity was hampered by the dread and guilt that shadowed his heart; it was barely enough to push the dark voice just out of ear shot.

"Alright then, but remember that once Recluse beats ya, I'll be there to finish ya off!" the drug whispered as Sechs stepped out into the hallway.

[To here.]