Nightshift 19 - Cafeteria/Kitchen

[gotahunch]

The Cafeteria followed the same track record as all the other rooms, quiet and seemingly harmless at first glance. Cliff wasn't sure if he should be relived or disappointed so far that he hadn't noticed anything moving in the shadows. Even the tables and chairs had been arranged neatly for the night as if nothing in the world could be wrong and

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[soul_defender]

Pacing closely behind Cliff, Ichigo kept his eyes to their rear flank, as it were, while his traveling companion was focused on the forefront. As he walked carefully along, the displaced shinigami would turn on his toes and walk backwards for a few steps, making entirely sure that nothing on four legs or two was craftily creeping up from behind.

Through the cafeteria, Ichigo gazed up at the ceiling, then off to the ample walls on both sides, remarking at how spacious the room seemed when it wasn't packed with patients, shuffling about during meals. It was appreciably more quiet as well, no disorderly voices to intolerably mix together into one single noise. The quiet was strangely distracting; Kurosaki seemed to have forgotten all about keeping an eye out, instead returning to his normally brash self.

Suddenly, Ichigo jumped an inch off the floor, barely catching a sound of Cliff's "probably stuck" declaration before the man proceeded to ram his foot against the door several times. With each kick, Ichigo grew increasingly tense at all the noise, until at last, the doorway gave in. He stopped, glanced around with a wide-eyed stare, and waited.

When nothing had leapt out to attack them yet, Ichigo was able to breathe out a sigh of relief, then storm up beside Cliff with a stern, bewildered gaze. "Hoi, next time, let me help! I'm pretty strong too, ya know." he exclaimed, keeping his voice down to a minimum.

Ichigo had just as little luck finding the light switch, bumbling his way across the wall for a moment before ultimately giving up. He'd done well enough by groping around in what precious light he had so far.

"I don't know..." he began, sounding a bit concerned. "Maybe we should hold off on eating? Something ugly might smell it and come running."

Ichigo tread lightly on the tiled floor, but made no real efforts to move quietly. He had already begun to rummage around in some of the cupboards and cabinets, shifting over pots, pans, and other assorted metal items, causing them to hit and clatter together softly.

[gotahunch]

"It shouldn't have taken three." He muttered under his breath. That, he was willing to admit, might have been a mistake on his part. Under normal circumstances the first kick was enough to get just about anything open but he had to keep reminding himself not to act on his first instinct because because these weren't normal circumstances.

"It's not about that!" He protested, his voice at about the same level as Kurosaki's now. "Old people need their exercise. How do you think I stay this good-looking?"

It was no use going back to sulking about his manly pride over something silly like a stubborn door. What was he, five? Again he took another part of the room to rummage through drawers and cupboards. He'd been banned from doing anything as small as microwaving pizza on the Eagle, so kitchens were still sort of a comically forbidden thing.

He shook his head at the sound of Kurosaki's voice, though he didn't think the boy would be able to see it. The words "My cooking's not that bad." came out as a half-hearted grumble. He suspected Kurosaki would pick up on the joke sooner or later, so he didn't come right out and say it just yet. That was probably what got so many people thinking there wasn't much going on in Cliff's head - he put a lot of faith in their ability to pick up on when he was being serious and when he wasn't.

"I'd be more worried that something ugly smelled us and came running."

The next drawer he opened was full of cutlery; butter knives, forks, spoons. Nothing quite useful but it wasn't plastic. He pulled it out and set it on the counter for a better look, the noise of that action, though brief, causing him to cringe a little. Cliff's element was not grace.

[soul_defender]

Still flaring over the incident with the door, Ichigo had boldly pressed himself forward, nearly butting heads with Cliff in a literal sense while their voices, hushed and straining, clashed together. "If you need exercise, go do some jogging! You don't need to make all kinds of noise, though!" he huffed demandingly.

Once he had begun his search, though, Ichigo may have fallen victim to his own pleadings. It was just so difficult to be quiet, though, when nearly everything his hands touched across was made of hard, clinking, clanging, clattering metal.

"Yeah, I know..." he replied, still busily opening up unchecked pantries to explore their contents. Parts of his speech sounded partially muffled, as several times, Ichigo would duck his head completely into the opening to look about, then pull it out again. "...but those crazy monster things could smell us anywhere in this place. If they smelled some actual food, though, they'd know exactly where we are."

The next cupboard he opened was full of plastic tupperware containers. At first, Ichigo was about to dismiss these non-metal items; they wouldn't make a decent sword at all, so how would they help? Before he moved on, though, he quickly remembered all the practical uses of plastic from back home. It was everywhere, especially when you lived in a medical clinic, where plastic was used in countless practical ways. Ichigo reached inside and picked up one of the more sizeable containers, hefting its light body in his hand, then began to squeeze it as tightly as he could. For something so small and light, there was no budging it in the least.

Maybe it was time for a new way of thinking. I should know better by now...being stiff and rigid isn't always the best way to go.

"Well, once we're done here, we can grab a little snack, then get going. How about that?"

[gotahunch]

"Yeah? Lets see you try it!" He shot back with a little less steam. It was hard to have a fight in hushed tones. Especially when the metalware was making more noise than his own voice.

Luckily no monsters had decided to show up and capitalize on the morse code 'kick me' he'd just banged out just yet. Maybe their would luck out long enough to find some actual knives and high-tail it back to their respective rooms to hide the stash. It had worked so far.

At the comment about the food, chuckled quietly. "How do you like seafood? I was talking to a kid earlier who said he'd run into a shrimp monster..." He trailed off, hoping - praying - that Kurosaki didn't take that one to heart. "I've even got the cutlery."

The intercom chimed in before he could say anything further. Cliff's pawing through cupboards and things slowed but didn't stop while he listened. It was hard to believe anything that came from the voice that tormented them nightly and even if it was true, what then? So far the intercom was scoring 0-to-1. The psychopath was just planting a seed of doubt in the patients. He had every reason to.

But he had worked to his own disadvantage if that was the case. In his own roundabout way, the head doctor had just given Cliff one of the answers he was searching for when it came to the radio: motive.

"It's always about a girl." He said once it was over. It came off less casually than he'd wanted, the words 'sick bastard' following right after almost of their own accord. He had no doubts about what the doctor was insinuating when he spoke about costumes. The fact that anyone could just play with human lives like that and joke about it made him sick.

[soul_defender]

Ichigo had just begun to stack up a number of the plastic containers, clearly aiming on quite a few to his personal collection; there were plenty to choose from, in a variety of shapes and sizes, and good number to pick through overall.

"Seafood? It's pretty good, when you cook it right..." Ichigo remarked thoughtfully; the whole 'monster' part didn't even seem to bother him. He'd just eat it before it could eat him.

Once he had picked the entire supply clean, he paused and gained a very pensive look once the idea struck him that the kitchen staff might notice so many of these missing, then start up some unpleasant inquisition to reclaim them. Kurosaki realized that it might not be worth all the hassle, then began to put the tupperware back into the cabinet, save for the small number he'd retain.

The dilemma had apparently distracted him from listening to the intercom. The eerie speech, no matter how important it might have been, apparently entered one ear then passed right out through the other.

"What's always about a girl?" Ichigo responded quickly, perking up from his routine with a curious glance. "Don't even worry about that guy. It sounds like he's just spouting a bunch of crap anyway."

[gotahunch]

"Yeah, maybe, but I've got a hunch there's more to it than that." Cliff replied, moving pots and pans aside more slowly as if whatever he was thinking about had distracted him. He should just have given up on the intercom like Kurosaki but nothing was adding up. Every time he got another subtle hint, he found himself chasing his tail again while he tried to pull the pieces together.

He should really have known better considering his track record. He would be playing right into the head doctor's hands if he kept this up.

The side of Cliff's hand brushed against a serrated edge, causing him to pull it back away a little. "Hey, I think I found something."

The next thing he pulled out was a long bladed bread knife. At least it was weapon-shaped. Until he had that discussion about weapons with Fayt it would have to do. For all he knew the kid didn't even know how to use a weapon - if that was the case, he'd have to be taught somehow. "If this place had a workshop I could do something with the rest of this stuff too."

[soul_defender]

Perhaps Ichigo was just the careless sort, but no matter how he tried, he just couldn't seem to put any stock in those chilling words blasted across the still, dust-laden air. The boy went right on with the job at hand, his eyes focused decisively on the contents of each drawer as he pulled them out and leafed through every gleaming object.

"A hunch?" Ichigo finally remarked, breaking his concentrated silence. "Do you have...some kind of psychic power, maybe?"

Cliff's sudden discovery of the knife, even before he had a chance to say 'no', seemed to convince Ichigo that it was true, Cliff was the supersensory type. "Hey, nice. Why didn't you just do that earlier?" he grinned admiringly.

Ichigo quickly gathered up the plastic and metal wares he had gathered, bundling them together and tucking it all under his arm, then joined Cliff on the other side of the counter. "Oh, you don't need to worry about a workshop. There are guys here with some pretty handy powers." he nodded. "All you need to go is give 'em the right materials, and they'll make what you want."

[thebloodyacacia]

screeeeech thump

screeeeech thump

screeeeech thump

[gotahunch]

He couldn't stash the bread knife anywhere on his person, so Cliff set it aside and raised onto his tiptoes to try and peer further into the cupboard for other goodies. So there were people here who could preform smithery without a workshop? In that case all he needed to do was gather a few materials and carry them back. He didn't know what he would do about payment but he'd cross that bridge when he reached it. For now, anything that made his life a little bit easier was something to be thankful for.

As for being called psychic... His chuckle was muffled a bit by the cupboard. "Trust me, if I knew how I would have. I don't think I'm.."

screeeeech thump

Cliff moved his head out of the cupboard. That didn't sound like the familiar clatter of kitchen ware. He made eye contact with Kurosaki, silently signaling for him to wait with his palm raised.

screeeeech thump

He couldn't tell exactly where the sound was coming from. How was that possible-?

screeeeech thump

He took up the knife he'd found, abandoning anything else for now. He couldn't fight carrying a million little things. There were three doors behind them and the cafeteria outside; if he had to take a risk, it would be the one that gave them a little hope of reaching safety.

He motioned for Kurosaki to follow him towards the door, quickly but carefully.

[soul_defender]

The look Ichigo wore, his emptied eyes peeled open wide and a very pale look robbing the color from his features, did not reflect fear so much as it did pure confusion. Like some of the horror movies he had watched back home, the augural sounds of baleful metallic scraping and dull, pounding foosteps haunted his conscious, generating any number of fearful images of what the source may be.

In that brief moment where their eyes met, Ichigo could only nod blankly; quickly, he drew in a deep, hissing breath and calmed himself, unwilling to give in to the uncertainty he had displayed, if only to reassure Cliff.

As he followed Cliff's cue, inching his way cautiously towards their door of retreat, the pearls of his eyes began to dart swiftly across the entire kitchen. If anything, Ichigo had a agile wit when it came to facing such a tense, lethal presence; he would watch for any hints of movement in these shifting shadows, any tiny sign of danger, and focus in on it immediately.

[thebloodyacacia]

As they approached the door to the cafeteria, the noise grew slightly louder.

screeeeech thump

screeeeech thump

screeeeech thump

Metal on metal, flesh on concrete. Over and over in that slow, rhythmic pattern, never speeding up, never slowing down, like the worst possible percussion in the most damned macabre death march anyone had ever heard.

[gotahunch]

Cliff had encountered monsters before. There were a lot of them on some underdeveloped planets, usually just mutated species of the plant or animal life that normally doweled there. In a place like this he expected rodents like mice and bats, maybe even a cat. This didn't sound like any of those things. This thing was was metallic, and it was big.

He was willing to bet that those two things kept it from moving too fast. He turned back to Kurosaki and opened his hand, risking a soft whisper. The teen had every right to be frightened. Cliff just hoped he wouldn't freeze up when they came face to face with whatever it was. "The canteen."

He caught the item and twisted the cap off.

"Get ready to use those matches." Cliff stood on the side closest to the wall and nudged the broken door open, kerosene in one hand and a fearsome bread knife in the other. Lets see what this thing is made of.

[soul_defender]

Kurosaki, taking a position on the opposite side of the door from his fellow man, gave a fast nod. As swiftly as he could, Ichigo had trustingly tossed Cliff the kerosene container with a deft flick of his wrist. There was no hesitation to his actions, nor was there the slightest chance of what natural fears he felt to toss a wrench into the clockwork of his courage. As he pressed his back to the wall, leaning a wary eye around the door's broken hinges, all signs of worry washed away in a wave, leaving a tensed and ready scowl in their place. This wasn't his first rodeo either.

Briefly, Ichigo bent down to the floor, taking the plastic container out from beneath his arm and setting it softly and quietly down beside him. With a clumsy and dated weapon like normal, brittle matches, he would need to manuever to the best of his ability, unhindered by cargo.

He readied himself again quickly after, already plucking one of the matches from the book. He held to it tightly between his index and middle finger, while keeping the rest of his hand tightly clentched into a resolute fist.

[thebloodyacacia]

screeeeech thump

SCREEEEECH thump

SCREEEEECH thump

SCREEEEECH

For several long moments, there was silence. There were a few creaks and squeaks, the sound of metal scraping against metal.

A pause, too long to be safe.

The massive sword tore through the door with a sickening sccCCKREEEEECH noise, catching on the jagged edges it made and stopping halfway through. It jerked once, twice, in and out, before being forcefully withdrawn, turning from side to side as its wielder wrenched it free.

There were no other sounds aside from the hideous screeching of the sword - no breathing, no thunderous groans, no cackles or laughter to accompany it all. Just silence.

[gotahunch]

At first, Cliff wondered if the pause meant the monster had considered turning away or if it had just stopped coming entirely. It could have been waiting for them to come outside before it chose to attack, which meant it at least had some reason to be afraid.

As the silence stretched, Cliff shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. Other than a stupendously bad feeling about the whole situation, he had nothing to go on.

It was about then the door exploded.

He raised an arm to block the splinters, lowering it in time to see and hear the large end of a sword being pulled out. Cliff's eyes widened.

It was one thing to encounter all kinds of monsters, another entirely when they carried weapons at least - at least - half the size of a person.

Then there was silence again.

Even after the sword completely decimated the kitchen door, Cliff had been expecting some kind of creature to come rushing in after it. If the attack didn't get to him, the silence in between would. This wasn't a normal monster, it was thinking. He willed himself to calm down and look at things rationally.

His features settled into a cool, determined mask. Yeah, rational, in a freakhouse mental institution. He could do that. He had to do that. He wasn't the only one to think about here. He glanced over at Kurosaki, making sure the boy was alright save for maybe a few splinters. When this was all behind them, he could be impressed with the way Kurosaki handled himself.

Right now... They'd have to be patient and wait for the monster to come in.

[soul_defender]

The sounds had stopped. No more scraping, no more footsteps. Where had it gone? When would it be back?

In those brief moments, every part of his existence had stopped indefinitely, and all he could do was wait for the world to start spinning again. God, he hated waiting. He hated never knowing which angle the next attack would come from. He hated the insecurity of his anxious mind.

To Ichigo, every second lost waiting for this murderous creature to make a move was its own tiny eternity, one that was spent with his breath held in apprehension the entire time, until his lungs emptied and his face turned blue. He even wished for an attack, no matter how lethal, to come, if only so he could respond and break the silence.

It was about then that the door exploded.

Ichigo's initial reaction was just about the same, a quick one, in which the shinigami's arms shot up around his face and crossed each other defensively to keep the shards from striking him. His next reaction, however, was remarkably dissimilar.

"Holy shit!" he yelled out, not in fear, but disbelief, glaring with utter frustration at the size of the gash the creature's sword had split. It was enough to make him tear his hair out. "Are you kidding me? Where the hell do all these strong monsters come from?"

Cliff would be able to tell that Ichigo was fine. He wasn't frightened anymore...just mad. Fighting mad. If that thing even dared to put a foot inside the door, it was going to get a very warm reception.