Nightshift 45: Greenhouse Yard

[byname_bynature]

( From here.Pulling Chris through the door, Sean nearly slipped on the grass as he ran barefoot across the yard outside the greenhouse. It was quiet--a strange and eerie silence that made Sean's skin crawl. He had a bad feeling about being outside. Like eyes were watching him run across the grass. Like he shouldn't be out here without something

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[damned_monsters]

It was the sounds that alerted it first, the footfalls on grass, whispering voices and furtive movements. What had truly caught its attention, though, was the scent of blood, sharp and crisp in the air. Still, at first it didn't move: for a moment it waited, nostrils flaring as it scented the air, ears swiveling about to listen to the pair in the yard.

And then another arrived, another who didn't bother to hide his presence. No, this one called out to those already present, arrogant or brave or both, it was all the same to the creature that listened. It was sufficient to draw the thing from hiding, at the least, and once the decision was made it shifted from still silence to movement in an instant.

From the deep shadows by the wall it came, like a piece of darkness itself had taken shape. It was a skeletal thing with the basic shape of a horse - its forelegs were more feline in form, though emaciated and tattered as the rest of it, and its tail was bushy and black-furred like that of an immense canine. On its back it bore a set of odd-looking wings, ragged and dully metallic like deeply tarnished silver, which halfway spread as it ran.

The thing might have looked ridiculous if viewed in the light of the day, being such a bizarre patchwork of pieces. In the dim moonlight, however, and with the menace about it so strong it was almost visible, it would be far different. Its uneven gait rang out in alternately loud and soft steps as it charged, bearing down on the boys who were trying to hide.

[tiassa]

[byname_bynature]

Sean didn't dare speak when he heard Schuldig coming across the grass. His heart seemed to slow down, like he was a cornered animal without any means to fight back. What would happen now? What would Schuldig do to him? Torture him and Chris until Sean gave in? Carry him back to his room and corner him there? Kill him and Chris?

He clung tighter to Chris, as though putting himself between Schuldig and his friend would somehow save them both from whatever was happening. Pausing, he released Chris' shirt and looked at his hand. There was something wet and dark on his fingers. Something that smelled distinctly of blood. He'd run Chris so hard, Chris' stitches had opened and he was bleeding. He hadn't noticed that.

'He's injured.' Sean looked up and saw Artemis crouched on the other side of Chris. 'You've really done it now. Injured your best friend running away from your prob--...' Artemis cut himself off, falling silent. Sean recognized that look: Artemis heard something. The only question was, if it wasn't Schuldig he was listening to, who or what was it?

Sean slowly turned his head to where Artemis was staring. He had a terrible feeling that whatever he was about to see, he desperately didn't want to see it. He was crazy enough already, though--he actually thought that Artemis was seeing something instead of his brain giving him a visual cue to something he should be hearing. But there was no way what he and Artemis were seeing was real. No possible way.

Scientifically speaking, the creature seemed impossible. Like a pegasus crossed with a cat, left to rot for God knew how long. It shouldn't be able to stand--it was skeletal. But the way it was running seemed to disprove that theory. Whatever it was, it could clearly move, run, whatever.

Was it real, was it a delusion? Sean wasn't going to find out, and neither was Artemis. If anyone was able to see them both at once, both of their expressions of terror would have matched perfectly. Sean didn't even know what he was saying, but it felt like the only thing he could do in this situation. Curling against the wall of the greenhouse in a lame effort to protect himself, he screamed.

"SCHULDIG!"
'SCHULDIG!'

[faithful_frost]

Trembling, Chris had kept his eyes closed and tried to calm his heart and his breathing. It wasn't until a soft sound alerted him to something being ... off. Then the smell hit him, and he turned to see what had Sean so transfixed.

Oh. God.

Acting instinctively, Chris stood and in one quick move, even as Sean had gotten the second scream out, he grabbed the other boy and yanked him away from the glass wall. Monster or man, Christopher would take his chances with the man. At least those could be reasoned with.

Pulling Sean and keeping his iron grip on his arm, he ran away from the monster and towards the only other person with a weapon.

"RUN," he shouted as he got closer.

[k4t4str0ph4l]

When Schuldig had heard the steps - from something that clearly couldn't be human, not with footfalls like those - he'd started moving more urgently...in the direction of the sounds, because there were three inevitabilities in life: death, taxes, and Artemis finding new ways to make himself a target for the danger du jour. If something was moving to attack, then all he had to do was go to where it was and he'd find Arty.

When Artemis shrieked, he ran.

Unfortunately, this almost resulted in his running into Haku dragging Arty the other way. The near collision, however, was the last thing on Schuldig's mind, because by then he'd seen what was following them.

Run? Haku was no more genius than Arty, if he thought that something on four legs - something built like a horse, at least partially, and could probably do (was already doing) a roughly similar turn of speed - could be outdistanced by two scared kids. Schuldig only needed a second of looking at the thing heading straight toward him to calculate that he himself would have just about time enough to turn around and take one, maybe two steps before the monster ran him down.

So it was practicality as much as bravado that inspired the wild grin as he grabbed the hatchet off his belt again. Oh, it probably wouldn't end well, but he'd rather spit in the face of his death than let it catch up to him as he ran. And there was nothing in this world or any other that could frighten Schuldig, not anymore. All of Schwarz had gone too far into the darkness to have any fear for anything that could be found there; they themselves had become the stuff of nightmares.

What was one patchwork monster, compared to that?

"Go back to hell," he informed it, watching to see if it would stop its charge before running him over or if he'd have to jump to the side, "before I send you there. Nothing that looks like you belongs up here."

[damned_monsters]

Normally, people ran. The creature wasn't capable of completely intelligent thought, but something deep within told it that this wasn't normal. This wasn't what was supposed to happen - not having someone stop and face it, especially not without any evidence of fear.

Fear was what it was looking for, after all. It practically oozed off the smaller ones, a tempting scent that had orginally drawn it to them and pulled it after as they fled. But - if it wasn't already present, such a thing could be produced.

Its steps slowed as it approached and it finally came to a stop only a few feet away from the small group, prancing a little in place with an uncertain-seeming air. Its tail flicked, its ears turning toward them as it gave a faint snort, breath gusting as warm vapor in the chilly air. Three of them. Three targets: one with a weapon, blade glinting in the moonlight, one already bleeding so temptingly, the other dripping fear even more temptingly.

The leftover abruptly reared then with a keening scream, forelegs pawing at the air as its wings spread to full span, fanning a reek of mingled sulfur and ozone at the trio. And as it did, the yard around them abruptly disappeared: there was no more greenhouse in the dim moonlight, no more chill winter air, no more anything. There was only emptiness.

It was beyond mere darkness, being a complete absence of light. It was an absence of warmth, of sound, of everything around. The only thing that would still exist would be that which those affected were already touching - the handle of a hatchet, another's arm - but everything else might well no longer exist at all.

[byname_bynature]

Sean felt like his arm was going to come out of his socket, Chris was pulling him away so hard. If he tripped, Chris might be able to drag him across the yard. Fortunately, he only stumbled a little before regaining his feet and fleeing as fast as his legs would allow towards the door.

He saw Schuldig go past them, and it took a moment for his mind to process what was happening. Schuldig wasn't running--he was protecting him and Chris. Which denoted two things: one, Schuldig was used to seeing creatures like the one Sean had seen; and two, Schuldig had been trying to protect them the whole time.

"Wait!" Sean cried, tugging on Chris' iron hand to stop them. "We can't just leave him!"

He turned back when he heard the thing snort and spread its wings. Sean shrunk in fear, wondering what was going to happen now. Was it going to breathe fire and kill them all? Would it bear razor-sharp fangs and eat them all whole? He looked back to Artemis, who was staring up open-mouthed at the thing.

And suddenly, everything was black--and gone. He looked back at Chris and found him there, but Artemis and Schuldig and the monster...

"Schuldig!" he called again, gripping Chris' wrist in terror. "Where did they go?!"

[faithful_frost]

Nothing. He was used to nothing. It was his own place, where he went when things got bad. Chris was breathing hard, trying to think. "Hush," he hissed when Sean called out again. "We need to... to calm down."

He moved closer to Sean, so that he could protect the other boy if he had to. If the red-headed madman wanted to fight the thing, fine. "It... it needs or wants something from us. I think. Otherwise, it would have k-killed us." He brought a hand to his chest, trying to slow his breathing and his heart.

"We... we can't fight it head on though. We don't e-e-even know where it is."

[k4t4str0ph4l]

One moment, Schuldig had been facing down a monster - ugly, dangerous, quite likely deadly, but not actually alarming because such things didn't actually alarm him. Be they people or monsters, there was nothing alive that Schuldig would allow to cow him, and next to none had access to anything that could frighten him.

Because there were things Schuldig feared; Crawford could call him a devil, and Schwarzz could talk about eradicating the human race as though it was something separate from them, but the fact remained that Schuldig was still human, and even the most evolved, most bold humans were built around a pure, primal core - equal parts lust, fury, and primordial terror. Schuldig had the good - and manufactured - fortune of all of his fears being abstract, not things any human or monster could truly embody or, in most cases, have the power to threaten him with.

He hadn't even entertained the idea that this crazy quilt monster might be the exception to the rule, which made the shock of being thrown into the dark that much worse.

There was nothing.

Only that wasn't entirely accurate; there was Schuldig, and he was alone. There were no thoughts to hear, the soundtrack in his mind abruptly and terrifyingly silent. There was no light, and nothing to see; no sound, and nothing to hear except his own shallow breathing. But the memories...those were there. Of Rosenkreuz, and small, dark rooms with only his screams to keep him company. This was how they'd tortured him, broken him to their yoke(or so they'd thought, at the time). Hours, sometimes days, where they'd deafened his very mind - something he'd occasionally wanted, but a lifetime of noise had never prepared him for.

He'd heard stories of psychics being left to die in the sensory deprivation chambers - helpless, alone, going mad long before dehydration took them if they didn't find a way to kill themselves first. Perhaps Rosenkreuz had invented the stories as an intimidation tactic, and it was entirely effective; the only thing more horrific than going into the chamber had been spending the time within wondering if he'd ever come out again. The prospect of death had been far less frightening than the thought he might be left to the silence.

And now...he was a child again, locked in that small, dark room, his mind blindly reaching for some anchor and finding nothingness. If he'd been able to find his breath, he would have screamed; instead, he sank to his knees, the hatchet dangling unheeded from his fingers - though he didn't let it drop. It was something tangible, and for that alone he would cling to it.

[damned_monsters]

There was raw terror, a base instinctual reaction to a situation and a creature designed to instill fear in those who saw it. That was intriguing enough to the creature, satisfying enough to have focused its attention on the ones supplying it, and it relished the taste inasmuch as it could enjoy anything. As the nightmare hybrid brought the illusion to life around its prey, though, it found itself abruptly focused on a surprising source.

The red-haired man had startled it before and did so again now, with the emotions evoked by the illusion around him. This was fear with a depth that was far more satisfying than transitory terror, far more interesting and satisfying to a creature that fed off the emotion. Unseen in the midst of the shadows it cast the creature's wings lifted higher, sparks flickering about the tarnished feathers, gradually growing in strength until an arc ran from wingtip to wingtip.

Its wings stroked forward, then, casting the miniature lightning toward the man kneeling on ground he couldn't even see. The first bolt was testing only, not enough to incapacitate, not yet. For now it was a sharp, painful sting, the only thing that could be felt in a world gone empty.

[byname_bynature]

Sean sat in the dark silent expanse, clinging to Chris and breathing heavily. His eyes darted around, trying to see if the monster was coming at them, trying to attack him and Chris. Though part of him knew that while he and Chris were two kids, they were two people--Schuldig was one. If Artemis were there, he would tell Sean that lions separated an animal from the herd for a reason.

"We might not be able to see it," Sean said, pulling Chris up with him. "But Schuldig probably can't see it either. And we can't find our way back to the door, not when we can't see that either. Our best bet is to regroup and fight together."

Sean looked forward, trying to remember where it was that he last saw Schuldig. God he had no head for this--if only Artemis were there, he would know.

"Let's... walk this way," he said, pointing forward. "Don't let go."

[faithful_frost]

Chris frowned, not liking this, but he wasn't about to abandon Sean to this nightmare.

"A-alright." He kept hold of Sean, trying to be on his guard.

[k4t4str0ph4l]

There was very little actual recourse Schuldig could possibly take with all his senses shut down; that was, of course, one of the terrors of sensory deprivation. True helplessness was a sensation no human in the history of the world, as far as he knew, had ever enjoyed, and he was no exception. There was nothing he could do, no escape. All he could do was cling to sanity by his fingernails and pray that either someone else would save him(Crawford had been good for that, once, but the institute was forcibly reshaping everything he knew about who he could rely on), or an end would come on its own.

The flash of agony - a sudden arc that seemed to snap its way through his entire body - wasn't exactly a relief, but it was sure as hell a distraction. It actually didn't hurt that badly, compared to some of the injuries he'd already taken in the institute - though it wasn't pleasant by any stretch of the imagination - but the sheer unexpectedness of it was enough to jolt the breath from his lungs in a cry of shock and pain.

[damned_monsters]

The two boys, original targets though they might have been, were by now almost completely forgotten. Instead the hybrid creature was focused entirely on Schuldig, on him and the fear and pain emanating off of him in steady waves. Though unseen by its targets, its lips curled back from yellowed fangs, as though it were drinking in the emotions with delight.

The lightning playing over its dull feathers slowly grew in strength and brightness, then its wings flapped once more, directing a far stronger bolt at the man. If the weaker arc had provided such delectable sustenance, a stronger one could only increase that; at the moment all it could think of was its desire to increase the agony, give it more to feed upon. Never mind the effect it might have upon the man...

[byname_bynature]

It was slow-going, but Sean was determined. Groping in the dark for Schuldig or some way out of this situation, Sean continued forward, trying not to think about what would happen if he were veering slightly off-course. There was no way to tell, really. Artemis would have known which way to go. Schuldig was right, no one would miss him if he left; Artemis was so much smarter and interesting and wise--

No! He couldn't think like that, not now! Now it was him--now was Sean. Artemis was out of reach, so he had to keep going. For Chris and Schuldig's sake.

"I got you both into this," he said, sounding both frustrated and regretful. Sean tightened his grip on Chris' hand. "I'm sure as hell going to get us out!"

He thrust out an arm into what he thought was where Schuldig's back should be. What actually happened was quite the opposite, however. Whatever his hand had met with, it was not cloth--it felt more like... a pelt.

Sean slowly looked up, transfixed in somewhat bemused terror. His palm was on the foreleg of the animal.

[faithful_frost]

When Sean froze, Chris tensed up and readied himself for the classic 'fight or flight' senario. Either they were about to die here, or ... well, they wouldn't. That was simple. All Chris had to do was to push away all his fear and confront the threat. He could almost hear his m... uncle in his mind.

fear is weakness. I don't need weakness around me He clasped Sean's hand tightly and slipped his free hand into his pocket, hands closing on cool, sharp metal.

[k4t4str0ph4l]

Something abruptly changed as the pain died away, though Schuldig only had a split second to process it. Sensation, light, thought flooded back so suddenly it was as if they'd never been gone, and with it a profound sense of relief...though he wasn't exactly given time to revel in it. There was an intense flash of light -

It blasted the consciousness from Schuldig almost instantaneously, sparing him from feeling the pain of the much stronger bolt lancing through him. It actually threw him backwards a few feet, his body arching as muscles involuntarily convulsed before even those movements died and he lay still.