Nightshift 41: Experimental Treatments Laboratory
[ From here]
Beds plus lab. No guesses what sort of experiments went on here. Scourge kept to the other side of the room and didn't dare touch them.
He was a superstitious mech, a foolish trait for a Decepticon but one he refused to give up. Straying into the resting places of the powerful dead was just asking for trouble, he hadn't needed the appearance of an actual ghost to tell him that, and who knew what sort of monstrous things were performed here? Especially right next to the "morgue", which Scourge understood to be a place where human stored their dead. He couldn't see any actual corpses around here, but if he had he would have probably offered a short apology for invading their personal space.
Sure, they were gone. Mostly. But Scourge didn't want to risk their wrath if they decided to come back and take an accounting of the wrongs done against them.
A soft squeak made Scourge's head snap to the side and his blade whip out to wave trembling in the cool air. Nothing. Scourge pressed the side of his head to the nearest door, feeling his internal systems quiver. He could smell living things again, their faint scents clear in the cold sterility of the laboratory. Not humans, the smell was wrong, too dank and musky. They were something he hadn't run into before, and not something he particularly cared to investigate further.
They were moving. Little--bones, claws, teeth?--made loathesome scratching noises against metal and plastic. Scourge could hear their growls and hisses, and twisted gurgling noises that shouldn't come from any natural vocalizer. It was only the suicidal draw of the horrific that kept him from running away from the door as fast as possible.
He shifted uneasily and the pommel of his blade hit the door with a soft 'thunk', making the creatures on the other side growl louder and shuffle more excitedly. Something outright shrieked, and Scourge nearly tripped over his own feet as he scampered backwards with his blade held out against a nonexistant foe.
Just animals. Weak, squishy, most likely caged animals with a thick door between them. Scourge inflated and deflated his lungs several times, getting a grip on himself before turning to focus on getting into the storage room.
The door was locked, as Scourge had expected. It was the last door between him and his goal but he still bounded and broke the lock as quickly as he could before scurrying inside and shutting the door firmly behind him. In and out, as fast as he could, and then he could spend the rest of the night hiding under his bed.
[ To here.]
Beds plus lab. No guesses what sort of experiments went on here. Scourge kept to the other side of the room and didn't dare touch them.
He was a superstitious mech, a foolish trait for a Decepticon but one he refused to give up. Straying into the resting places of the powerful dead was just asking for trouble, he hadn't needed the appearance of an actual ghost to tell him that, and who knew what sort of monstrous things were performed here? Especially right next to the "morgue", which Scourge understood to be a place where human stored their dead. He couldn't see any actual corpses around here, but if he had he would have probably offered a short apology for invading their personal space.
Sure, they were gone. Mostly. But Scourge didn't want to risk their wrath if they decided to come back and take an accounting of the wrongs done against them.
A soft squeak made Scourge's head snap to the side and his blade whip out to wave trembling in the cool air. Nothing. Scourge pressed the side of his head to the nearest door, feeling his internal systems quiver. He could smell living things again, their faint scents clear in the cold sterility of the laboratory. Not humans, the smell was wrong, too dank and musky. They were something he hadn't run into before, and not something he particularly cared to investigate further.
They were moving. Little--bones, claws, teeth?--made loathesome scratching noises against metal and plastic. Scourge could hear their growls and hisses, and twisted gurgling noises that shouldn't come from any natural vocalizer. It was only the suicidal draw of the horrific that kept him from running away from the door as fast as possible.
He shifted uneasily and the pommel of his blade hit the door with a soft 'thunk', making the creatures on the other side growl louder and shuffle more excitedly. Something outright shrieked, and Scourge nearly tripped over his own feet as he scampered backwards with his blade held out against a nonexistant foe.
Just animals. Weak, squishy, most likely caged animals with a thick door between them. Scourge inflated and deflated his lungs several times, getting a grip on himself before turning to focus on getting into the storage room.
The door was locked, as Scourge had expected. It was the last door between him and his goal but he still bounded and broke the lock as quickly as he could before scurrying inside and shutting the door firmly behind him. In and out, as fast as he could, and then he could spend the rest of the night hiding under his bed.
[ To here.]