Night 43: M51-M60 Hallway
The intercom's words grew more and more telling as the day neared its end. Faize now understood that to those running the institute, he and the other captives were the subjects of some sort of reeducation program, one which was responsible for the brainwashing of patients, visitors, and doctors alike. Next Wave, the announcements mentioned often.
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"Pretty dull overall, though I ran into an old acquaintance." 'Acquaintance' was probably too strong a word. Matt had never met L face to face before arriving in Landel's. The simple fact of how much influence the man had on his life was reason enough to consider there a connection.
As he sat down to consider his meal again, the wound on his arm from the night before began to itch. He tried to ignore it, but soon found himself trying to scratch through shirt and bandages. "As far as I.R.I.S. goes, I think it's at least a backup system. It may be to early to say whether anything it's been saying is legit or not." He had better thoughts on this, but Edgeworth was not the person he'd be sharing them with.
He was relatively quiet until nightfall. When the intercom came on, he was too overwhelmed by the sensation of that sudden hunger from the previous night returning that he missed everything that was said. Most noise, in fact, was tuned out at that point, leaving him with nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat pounding loudly in his ears. Later, he'd be grateful for this, as it was a sign that he was still alive and not a completely mindless undead drone.
Beneath the sleeve of his shirt, the infection had spread back out beyond the bandage. The smell of live flesh - Edgeworth, sitting on the other side of the room - was overwhelming. Worse yet, he had no real emotional attachment to his roommate. There was nothing to keep him from wanting to sink his teeth into him.
He made a choking sound, wrapping his infected arm around his middle. "I don't... feel so good all of a sudden..." he got out. "C-can you give me a hand?"
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"I agree -- " Any other thoughts were stopped by that sight. The voice pinged once, loudly, but he paid it no mind, assuming that it was just the aftereffect of that strange visual display a moment before. Even if there was no real emotional attachment here, he wasn't one to let that go.
Edgeworth crossed the room, kneeling down in front of his roommate. "What's wrong, Robin?"
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It was a shame Edgeworth had already changed clothes. This would be so much easier to do if he'd just been wearing the regular uniform.
When he turned his eyes on his roommate fully, they were strained with a maddening hunger. "Sorry about this," was the only warning he gave before lunging toward Edgeworth's neck. The element of surprise was about all he had on his side, as being partially zombified hadn't given anything to his strength and agility - a rather bum deal, if you asked him.
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There wasn't time to react before there were teeth between his neck and shoulder, and he screamed in unison with the voice. What in the world? I didn't think --
And then there wasn't time at all to think, just react. Edgeworth pushed Matt away, clasping one hand to the wound on his neck and glaring. "What in the world are you playing at?" He didn't give the man a chance to answer before he moved to his closet, taking out the sword and pointing it forward.
"Is this an effect from last night?"
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Breaths shaky, he fell from a crouch into a sitting position. One hand went to his mouth. The worst part of it was that he wanted to do it again. Edgeworth's blood satiated some of the gnawing hunger only slightly. But now, while he was still in control, he needed to stop himself. Should he run for the door and potentially attack someone else out in the halls?
He began rolling up the left sleeve of his shirt, revealing the infection that covered most of the arm. It hadn't spread any further than the size it had reached the night before, might have gotten a bit smaller, in fact, if that wasn't just wishful thinking.
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"I'd suggest being careful tonight," he said, in a dry tone tinged with seriousness. "Not everyone would lower their weapon when faced with someone who was trying to eat them." That wasn't a threat - a warning, yes, but not a threat. "If all else fails, as distasteful a subject as I find it, you may want to find a monster to take out the craving on." The thought brought bile up to the back of his throat, but he swallowed it back down.
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"And I'd suggest you get going." He took a long, shuddering breath. "Seeing as I've already gotten a taste of you." And Matt sincerely hoped he never ended up saying that to another guy ever again, serious situation aside. "I'm just gonna sit here for a bit."
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[to here.]
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That was not a pleasant image, and he felt deeply sickened, but the hunger remained.
He should stay where he was for the night, not cause anyone else any harm, but surely... surely he'd be able to find a bite somewhere that wouldn't get him into trouble. Like that vampire had done to him his first night there - knock them out and drag them to another room. He wouldn't kill them, just take a few nibbles...
Slowly Matt stood and, with his bad arm still held tightly to himself, grabbed his flashlight and left the room.
[to here]
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