Nightshift 46: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 2
[from here]
Yomi kept her flashlight off as she entered the mouth of the stairwell. No one appeared to have come this way yet, at least not anyone related to the horrible hospital uniform the ‘patients’ were required to wear. As for spectres and other threats? The space was clear.
She was sure of this, even if she was less cautious than she could’ve been in gauging her pitch-black surroundings. The sesshouseki wasn’t precisely a force for prudence, either. If Yomi thought about it, she alone had a luxury in being able to exist without the worry of a gruesome death at the hands of some foe the hospital produced. She had already caused them, and lived one herself. What was physical harm to her now, if she could even be killed properly? The way her powers and those of the sesshouseki had been restricted did bother her, but not so much out of a sense of self-preservation as pride. Then again, perhaps there were others amongst the prisoners that shared the same nonchalance for life? Maybe. And they’d make perfect companions to have. Better than people like Kagura and Allen Walker, who were only good for one thing and one thing only.
Her boots made methodical thunks against the stairs as she moved into a light jog up the stairs. She heard nothing but silence up top, too. Kind of boring. Guess there were no impressive tricks in store for those under Landel's thumb that night. But if not while the moon was still out, tomorrow was a brand new day.
[to here]
Yomi kept her flashlight off as she entered the mouth of the stairwell. No one appeared to have come this way yet, at least not anyone related to the horrible hospital uniform the ‘patients’ were required to wear. As for spectres and other threats? The space was clear.
She was sure of this, even if she was less cautious than she could’ve been in gauging her pitch-black surroundings. The sesshouseki wasn’t precisely a force for prudence, either. If Yomi thought about it, she alone had a luxury in being able to exist without the worry of a gruesome death at the hands of some foe the hospital produced. She had already caused them, and lived one herself. What was physical harm to her now, if she could even be killed properly? The way her powers and those of the sesshouseki had been restricted did bother her, but not so much out of a sense of self-preservation as pride. Then again, perhaps there were others amongst the prisoners that shared the same nonchalance for life? Maybe. And they’d make perfect companions to have. Better than people like Kagura and Allen Walker, who were only good for one thing and one thing only.
Her boots made methodical thunks against the stairs as she moved into a light jog up the stairs. She heard nothing but silence up top, too. Kind of boring. Guess there were no impressive tricks in store for those under Landel's thumb that night. But if not while the moon was still out, tomorrow was a brand new day.
[to here]