Nightshift 43: Cafeteria

[ran_on_empty]

[From here.]In Sync's eyes there was no such thing as falling 'gracefully', especially when it was face first onto the floor after a rather sloppy escape. The teen had fallen several feet from the door, having used a burst of strength to at least pull himself as far away from the last room as possible

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[poolcuemurder]

Again he was tempted to leave the two men on their own, even turning his head as they started to leave (he had seen more than his fair share of violence, but seeing how red the man's flesh was turning still made his stomach knot in disgust), but something Arlene had said earlier came to mind the instant they touched the metal doors. She had mentioned why she needed his assistance this night, didn't she? That even though they had the keys, they needed a larger party than what they had in order to open the door. If he let the two enter the Cafeteria alone, there was a high probability that, being the assassins they were and in the condition the two were in, Arlene and SubZero would have no qualms making hostages out of the situation. It would have been no better than if he neglected to tell them about the Sun Room

[sanguinario]

Though Edward was surprised to see their newest acquaintance follow after them, for the moment he had no complaint (though it helped that he wasn't thinking of potentially causing them harm). Normally, the addition of one more human by his side wouldn't make much of a difference, but the pulsing pain in his side reminded him that things had changed. Drastically.

Yet it was still strange to feel ill-at-ease because of a message on the building's intercom, strange and fragmented as it was. Aside from his burns, the room seemed to grow frigid, the skin of his neck crawling. Human responses to fear were blossoming in a body that hadn't felt it in nearly a century. Everything but the heartbeat.

The wide breadth of darkness in the cafeteria made it seem easy to imagine further hallucinations... but, as he looked harder, these weren't the same as before. Not walls and pipes, but shadows, all human-shaped, light wisps of hair and trailing gowns and hushed echoes of laughter.

Then, the voices. But not just one set - many.

"Don't worry," a

[poolcuemurder]

Whatever was happening, it was obvious he wasn't the only one suffering from it. He didn't want to admit he was afraid, being afraid was being weak and for people who didn't face death every single day, having to face the knowledge of his death every waking moment, but from the look on their faces... They heard it too. Maybe not what he was hearing, but they heard something to set them on edge