Night 51: Recreational Field

[notstealing]

[From here.]

When Locke opened the door, he was greeted by a rush of fresh air-something entirely unexpected, on his part. It was too easy, wasn't it? When he looked around, all he saw was a field, a shed, and walls that blocked him from being home free. Lucky me, he thought to himself, as he looked around the surroundings. So far, he'd managed to

Comments

[unheroed]

At first Harvey had been wondering if they would be lucky enough to be able to outrun whatever was bothering them -- it wasn't just the cat, it was more than that; he just didn't know what -- but that had been far too naive of a thought. He'd only run maybe ten feet before his eardrums were once again assaulted by a terrible noise that seemed to pierce right into the part of his hearing that caused intense pain.

Dammit, what was it about trying to wreck their hearing lately? He grit his teeth (he could deal with pain; he dealt with it all the time and he would now, just the same) and kept on moving, glad to see that Jones was managing to keep up. He didn't really think that now was the time for quips and comments, and so he didn't give the other man much of a response. All he wanted to do now was get as far away from this nightmare as possible.

The lights still hadn't come back on, so to speak, and he wondered if there was even a way to shake all of it off. Though when he caught Jones looking at something, Harvey had to follow his gaze, causing him to see something he really would rather not have seen. That kid was clearly not your average runt, if the way he was keeping up with them and screaming nonstop, like some sort of tortured animal, was any indication.

Honestly, Harvey just wanted to get away from it, from all of it. And so he kept running until he almost ran into the wall. He skidded to a stop and laid his hands against the concrete. Good. They were almost past this, or so he hoped.

[deathrattling]

[OH GOD I AM SO, SO SORRY FOR THE LATENESS OF THIS. /)_(\ You guys are welcome to escape after this tag!]

The boy's footsteps thudded louder and louder in the still night, grass smashing underneath his small feet until each step sounded a rapid heartbeat under the endless yowl. As the patients reached the wall and began to climb, the child, too, reached a hand out and grabbed onto the brick.

But rather than having to search for a handhold, he seemed instead to warp: his spine arched out in a grotesque curve and both feet latched onto the wall along. One hand over another, he crawled up the wall after them as if it were flat ground.

The only indication that he was moving up a straight incline was his hair, which trailed out behind him -- growing longer even as his body wrenched its way up the wall, the yowl stuttering into a guttural rattle and his black-hole eyes following their movements.

[its_the_mileage]

Indy reached the wall at the same moment as Dent. He was delayed in starting the climb by the need to bring his other arm down from his head and stow his gear--whip back over the shoulder, machete in its case secured to the whip by the metal clip. It left the machete dangling awkwardly near his belt and his ears ringing, but it was good enough to let him make the ascent.

Without looking back for the kid, the cat or the damned Boogeyman, Indy found his first handholds and started to climb. His burned left arm hurt like hell with the effort. This time he didn't waste effort in swearing or cracking jokes, just focused doggedly on planting one foot on the wall. Then the next. Then--this was the tricky part--letting go with his right hand-- "Whoa!" he gasped as his left arm threatened to buckle and he replanted his hand just in time to avoid falling. He took a breath. So far, so good, Jones. Left arm. Right foot. Left foot.

It wasn't until his right hand hit the upper edge of the wall that Indy realized the godawful howling noise had shorted out somewhere along the way. Small favors. He pulled himself up to the top and turned back to extend a hand to Dent, ready to jump down on the far side as soon as the other man was up. The kid--no, the thing was at the edge of his vision; eyes widened, he tried to ignore it and focus on Dent's progress. Their best hope was that it wouldn't follow them outside the Institute's grounds.

[unheroed]

Also having to do a bit of shuffling before he could climb the wall, Harvey shoved his flashlight into his free coat pocket and made sure that his gun was secure in his waistband before he followed after Jones. It occurred to him, in the back of his mind, that he could have tried to shoot the kid that was following them, and yet he got the feeling that it wouldn't do much good. Not when the boy hardly seemed human.

It was... climbing after them. Like it was some sort of insect rather than a human boy -- and the screaming wasn't stopping. Harvey tensed and tried his best to ignore it, knowing that watching the thing's progress would only delay their escape. But would they actually be out of danger when they got over the wall? Well, there was only one way to find out.

Jones made it up much faster than him, probably because he was used to this sort of thing, and also because he wasn't fighting so much pain. Harvey took the man's hand, trying to put as much of his own strength into getting up, so as to not to accidentally pull Jones back down with him. In the end they managed it, and he got onto the top of the wall.

The screaming was still there.

Drowning it out, Harvey forced himself over the wall, just wanting it to stop already.

[To here.]