[IC] Echoes Of The Forgotten

[Nytem4re]

A dim light illuminated the control room, sounding a small alarm. However, it got no attention as no one was there to check why it was going off. It continued for a few minutes before a monotone, computer generated voice echoed throughout the hallways.

" Reserve Power Depleted. Running on emergency generators. ORACLE has confirmed breach on all sublevels. Requesting permission to execute contingency plan S-05. Pinging Server 505... No response detected. ORACLE will now calculate the next best plan of action..... Calculations complete. Overriding manual controls. Quarantine has been successfully lifted on all levels. Shutting down power to non-essential programs to conserve power and protect ORACLE."

The complex rumbled as several doors and blast doors were now unlocked and opened.... at least, the best that they could be opened with minimal power. Many doors were stuck, their motors unable to function properly with little power. An example of this predicament? Pretty much all the doors on Cell Block A-01, located on the ninth sublevel, were pretty much almost closed, or at the best, halfway open. A distorted voice spoke in the PA system, and anyone that was in the cells could hear pretty clearly. " Mech....ical... iss.. detec...ed... maintenance crews...on... thei... way. Please wait for them to fix your holding cell, and please do not attempt to leave unless given explicit instructions to do so."

And then it was silent again... as it had been for the past ten years...

[XxLyraxX]

Willow blinked her eyes open as her blurry and faded surroundings came into view as her eyes focused as best they could but...this wasn't her bedroom. This realization caused the girl to shoot into a sitting position however her head began to spin at the sudden motion and she slumped over slightly until the dizziness had subsided. When it did she sat up very carefully, struggling to make sense of the room she as in. She knew she was on a bed and she could make out the squareness of the room, which told she was in a small room of some kind. It didn't help her though that the lightening was dim, therefore making her partial blindness even more severe, leaving her barely able to tell one thing from another.

She closed her eyes, listening hard. It was quiet at first but then a loud voice over the intercom made Willow jump almost a foot off the mattress in fright. After her initial scare, she carefully listened to the message. The gears in her head turned as she tried to link the message to the type of place she was in. Holding cells were mentioned...was she in some kind of medical facility? Before she could think more on the matter a sharp pain in the back of her neck distracted her. She guessed the shock at finding herself in a strange place had worn off and the pain was making itself known. She reached back with her right hand and felt around carefully. Her hand jerked upon contact with something but then she began to examine it with her fingers. Was she...branded with something? There was defiantly scarring of some sort. She then felt other lines branching away from the seal thing but she knew that she would never be able to tell what they were without something to aid her. She resolved to figure it out later and pushed the problem to the back of her mind, unaware that the tattoo was very visible on her face but since she did not have a mirror she was unaware of that fact.

Willow swung her legs over the side of the bed and she stood, her legs wobbly at first but she quickly regained her balance. She then began to walk around the room, examining things as best as she good. She finally had to resort to using her hands to feel along the wall as she walked. She encountered something that felt like a door but when she tugged on it it didn't budge. She sucked in a deep breath and tugged with all her might and after a few moments of nothing the door gave way about an inch. By the time the door was open enough for her to slip through Willow was panting from the exertion. She stepped out into the hall but quickly stepped back towards her cell. The hall was completely dark to her. While others might have been able to make out vague things with the dim lights, Willow was unable to see at all. If she found a flashlight, she might be able to make her way slowly down the hallway but then what? She didn't have a clue where she was nor just what was out there in the darkness.

She turned back her cell to go back inside when she noticed a slight brightness in the dark. She stepped closer and realized it was a screen. After much squinting Willow was able to figure out that the screen contained information about her. She glanced at the date but then did a double-take and examined it closer. She blinked. That's impossible. I was "admitted" April 10th, in 2015 so....how can it be ten years later without me being aware of time passing? Was I in some kind of cryostasis and had just now woken up from it?

She bit her lip and stepped back inside her cell to see if she could find anything useful.

[Soul]

" Mech....ical... iss.. detec...ed... maintenance crews...on... thei... way. Please wait for them to fix your holding cell, and please do not attempt to leave unless given explicit instructions to do so."

Quiet, almost silent groans escaped his dry, ragged throat, sounding more like low snarls from a starving wolf.

He was a tall man, oddly pale despite his skin seeming to be tan formerly. His head was down, long, spindly brown hair falling into his dazed, unfocused white eyes. Despite being in that same position for years, the man was in oddly good shape, having a sharp, streamlined definition to his muscles, or at least from what could be seen from under the draping, tattered operating suit he had on before. The white satin was stained with crimson life liquid, seemingly from some wound.

This man...was Sin.

He blacked out again.

---

Sin was in pain.

His head pulsed with unadultered fear, agony, and confusion, even as the former businessman worked hard to control the labored breathing that was currently tearing his parched throat to absolute shreds. From what he could see with a few unfocused glances around the room, he was in some sort of operating cell, with a tattered, blood-stained mattress on one side of the dinky cell, while he had somehow fell to the other side, leaned against the cold steel wall with his knees to his chin and his head down.

"W-what..." His voice came out better than before, but still raspy and deep. "Where am I..." Utilizing a technique that he had learned due to years in the business trade, Sin brought a pale, shackled hand up to his forehead and pressed down hard on his temple, relieving the mind-shambling headache, if only slightly. He prepared to bring his hand back down, most-likely to clench them repeatedly in confusion and desperation, but stopped when his calloused fingertips brushed against a ragged, yet smooth indention.

"The Hell." Sin pressed his hand all along his face, feeling deep....incredibly deep black scars practically melded into his pale face, scratching all along his cheeks, his jawline, his forehead, his chin. Bringing his finger back to his neck, Sin murmured in confusion at the feeling of...of even more scarred tissue on his spinal column. A tattoo of sorts, even. He glanced down at his hands, spotting weird symbols on the palms as well. What in the Hell was going on?!

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

His thought process evened out, and the sharp-eyed man from before was back, stumbling onto numb feet and leaning against the steel wall to balance himself. Sin glanced at the bed, and glared at it hard, feeling the scars on his body clench and burn slightly at the angry, yet cold emotion the composed prisoner was feeling. "Why am I here?" He suddenly growled out, slamming his hand against the steel wall with a resounding clang.

So many questions.

Sin's eyes went back to the steel bed, and without realizing it, the man rose a glowing hand towards the bed, before abruptly clenching it. The sharp, horrible screech of pure metal grinding into a basket-ball sized ball of steel sounded throughout the room, bouncing off of the wall and causing Sin to fall to his knees, clenching his arms against his ears.

It only lasted a second, however, and feeling the echo go away, Sin stood back up and stared hard at the spiky, steel metal ball. The Hell was that?! There was absolutely no logical explanation for any of this...this shit! He hated being confused!

"Damn it!"

The ball blasted into the air, before slamming against the cell's door. It budged slightly, but didn't open all the way. Quickly regaining his composure, Sin cautiously rose a hand, throwing it to the side as if he was throwing away some disgusting drink. The cell door budged, before slamming open loudly and allowing a sudden burst of cold, damp air to slam face-first into Sin's nostrils.

"Hng..." Sin clenched his fists, pale face turning a shade of purple, before letting out a breath and walking through the entry-way. The corridor was pure black, and extremely cold, but he ignored the chills. A plaque, shining with momentary light, blinked near his cell door...revealing a date...

"...Damn it." Another headache.

With a grim face, he walked further into the darkness, hearing the sound of another cell door open. Without his knowledge, a sharp, jagged piece of steel floating beside him from the bed, as if it was defending him from anything that may go bump in the dark.

Without any directions, Sin headed for the sound of a cell opening, quickly spotting a small light, similar to the one he had just saw with the date.

[DR_TRAPEZOID]

Charlie jerked up into a sitting position, naturally a bit startled. Well, startled is an understatement. He was awestruck, trying to remember... anything. He let himself fall back onto the cold stone floor, running his hand through his hair. "Who... where am I?" He said aloud to himself. His memories began flooding back, the racing, the hospital- the accident. Charlie looked down at his hand, or rather, his lack of such.

Charlie choked back the slight nauseated feeling he got, as he looked back at it. he never really had a chance to come to terms with the fact that a major part of his life was gone. He sighed, staying down for a minute, allowing himself to catch his breath. After taking a minute to himself, to rest, he got up, and looked around the room. He had been awoken by rather annoying alarms, and was a bit put off that they were still going on.

Sighing, he stepped over to the metal blast door that was feebly trying to seal him in. The mechanisms in the shiny door whirred, as it slowly opened and closed. The door was almost ripped off of the wall, hanging loosely, but still blocking any easy escape. Disgruntled, he looked into the shiny metal surface. The door was surprisingly reflective, and allowed him to see himself, check the damage.

At first glance, he seemed alright. He was wearing his white t-shirt, and usual cargo pants. His beard was a bit larger than he usually kept it trimmed, but not crazily large. However, peering closer, he noticed the intricate lining of his tattoo. He was a bit startled. "Where did that come from?" He asked himself. He looked closer, discovering that it spiraled up his arm, and onto his torso. He gave a disheartened grunt, he hated the culture of tattoos.

Charlie cracked his knuckles, wasting no more time. He reached for a gap in the door, and began to pull as hard as he could, attempting to pry the steel away. It was to no avail. As he shifted his hand to obtain a better grip, he let out a quick sharp breath, as he cut his one good hand on a jagged piece of metal. He stepped back, clutching his wrist, before he began to put pressure on the cut. However, he was unable to stem the flow before a great deal scattered across the floor.

"Oh god, please don't give me tetanus." He said out loud, almost in a panicked voice. In the heat of the moment, he didn't notice the faint glow in his tattoo, or his blood. As he let go of his wrist, he looked down at his other missing hand. It had a strange tingling sensation, and he began to gain more feeling in it than the phantom pains that he usually got. Suddenly he noticed it. The large glowing hand was rather prominent, spreading it's warm yellow glow through the small room.

He jumped back, raising his arms in defense. He was extremely surprised to see that the arm moved with him.

"What... the... hell..."

He said to himself, moving his hand around, flexing it. The glowing yellow hand mimicked his movements perfectly, other than it staying anchored in the ground. "I could get used to this..." He muttered, before flexing out his arm, making his new 'friend' grab a hold of the door. Charlie strained, pulling with all of his might, until the door finally gave way, and cracked off of the wall completely, slamming down into the hallway, with a lot of noise.

Now that that arduous task was out of the way, Charlie took this opportunity to step closer to the hand, and examine it. As he studied it, he subconciously let his actual arm slide down into a resting position at his side. Before Charlie could do anything about it, the hand flickered away. "No! Come back!" He said futilely. "Damn... he muttered, as it was quite obviously gone. He stepped out into the hall, ignoring the sharp pains shooting up his empty wrist.

Charlie took in his surroundings rather quickly. Deciding that there was not immediate danger, he stepped up to the glowing placard on the wall, to get a better look. "This can't be right..." He said, reading the information. It was all correct, but he could not believe that this was actually happening. It had to be some kind of joke. Without any hesitation, he turned to the dim halls, calling out. "Hello? Is anyone here? Does anyone know what's going on?"

[teapotshark]

Connie stumbled about her holding cell, tripping over her own feet, and picking up and inspecting each piece of equipment she could as the voice carried over the PA system. There were other cells. Other cells containing what? She tapped a test tube against the temple and rattled off numbers on her hand. There had to be something in her bank of knowledge to help her. More cells, she thought, more cells, more cells... they don't keep different experiments in the same space, so... more cells, more people. Questions avalanched to the forefront of her mind, changing and shifting with each discovery, and more screamed for attention as time passed.

She tried to think logically. The last thing she remembered was coming home, going to the basement and feeding the snakes, the rats, the tortoise... had she fed the spider? What did she do after that? Her memory went blank and picked up at different times, great spots of it missing. I was drugged. Waking up in the cell minutes earlier still had her heart straining in her chest, her hands shaking and blood cold. The tattoo spreading from the base of her neck down to her arms, always visible, and the presence of scar tissue elongated the panic.

Collecting her discoveries, she reiterated, we were drugged, taken, experimented on and held here. But the questions continued to beat at her brain. A headache began to form. She turned her attention on the present; where was she now?

The cell looked nothing like she had ever seen before, the equipment only vaguely recognisable. That could be because of her current memory malfunction, or something else. The facility couldn't be run by any institution she was aware of. There was a powerful intercom system, the door was mechanically operated, and signs of human life besides herself were nil. She considered the possibility of a recent evacuation and felt her heart beat impossibly faster. What hazard had spiked an evacuation here?

Finally, Connie approached the door. She was caught between two courses of action; stay and become trapped, possibly drugged again, or disobey the voice and try to get out. The decisions came down to what she was more afraid of, and she decided staying wasn't an option.

Squeezing as much of her body through the gap in the door as possible, Connie shifted and pushed until the gap allowed her to slip through. Focused on getting out, she didn't account for the ease with which she opened the jammed door. She caught sight of a flickering screen on the door – the brightness of it like an icicle to her optical nerve – and froze.

CONSTANCE BAXTER
ADMITTED: APRIL 10th 2015
CURRENT DATE: JANUARY 16th 2025

...Ten years? That's not possible. Being drugged for that long...

Jolted out of her thoughts by the sound of footsteps and a voice, Connie whirled around and faced the dim light of the corridor. She didn't know whether to walk towards the voice or away from it, but the footsteps seemed to be coming from the opposite direction. Whichever way she went, something would find her. Out of fear and scientific curiosity, she pressed herself against the wall beside her door and waited.

[Lookie]

Andrew didn't know where he was, and he was in pain. Those were the only things he could really comprehend as he listened the distorted voice that rang through his room, loud and unpleasant. Maintenance crew was coming, stay in your... holding cell? He had trouble keeping his breathing calm, his body stiff and eyes squeezed shut. Denying the situation wouldn't help, Andrew knew as much, but old habits died hard.

What had happened? He couldn't remember much past this afternoon. After that everything was blank. The man would have guessed at an accident(those caused short term memory loss sometimes, right?), but hospitals didn't have holding cells. Or large doors made of metal to keep the patients in. Maybe he didn't want to know. That was probably the best option. He shouldn't ask any questions, he should just get out.

The man let out a pained groan as he lifted himself from the unforgiving mattress, ignoring everything else but the large metal door in front of him. It looked heavy, but Andrew had heard it creak open before he'd completely woken up. It wasn't just his back that ached, the man realized as he forced himself on two shaky feet. It was his whole body, every inch of him seemed to burn. His breath hitched in his throat, inhaling and exhaling in short, quick bursts. Andrew was scared. Thankfully there was no-one in this place to fault him for it here.

Getting to the door with unsteady feet was difficult, stumbling over himself and leaning against the wall. Andrew was left standing in front of the slightly cracked metal door, hand rising to rub as his neck as he tried to calm down. Instead, he found himself touching a smooth line running down the back of his neck, smooth and void of hair. With hesitant hands, he investigated at the line. A scar he realized, noticing that it started from the very top of his spine, disappearing well below his neckline.

He pulled his hand away as if it had been burned. How had he gotten that? Had someone stolen his organs? Whatever was waiting him behind this large metal door wasn't going to be pleasant. Trying his best to ignore the paranoid thoughts, Andrew pulled at the door with shaky hands. At first it didn't move, and the man locked inside had to choke down a panicked keen that almost escaped his throat. Staying here wouldn't help him. If he'd been kidnapped, he needed to get out, right? He needed to get out.

With another pull, the door moved with a faint creak. Andrew let out a relieved sigh, feeling hopeful. The slight crack on the door had widened, though not by much. From somewhere outside, he could hear a loud slam. Someone else must have been here as well! Maybe that maintenance crew? Could he trust them? They'd be working with whoever had shut him inside this room. Trying his best to keep himself from panicking, the man pulled as hard as he could.

It wouldn't move anymore. No matter how hard he pushed, the door wouldn't move. Andrew wondered if he was just too weak to pull it open, or if it was the fear that had sapped out all of his energy. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how he tried to stop it, and while his back felt better than when he'd woken up, it still ached.

Then he heard a yell from outside, calling out. At first Andrew stiffened, worried, but whoever the other person was, they seemed just as confused as he was. Maybe there were others like him here. This one had seemed to get out. Embarrassment coursed through Andrew's body. Someone else had gotten out, while he was too weak to do more than make the door budge.

”H-hey,” he coughed out, before clearing his dry throat and starting again. His voice felt hoarse, as shaky as the rest of him. His voice rang through the dark hall. ”Hey! I need help. I-I'm stuck, I can't get out!”

[Apokalipse]

Hero’s mind was pulsating and something was burning in her stomach, like acid, when she woke up. Confusion ruled her mind and she couldn’t think; everything felt gray. She pushed her eyes open, the flickering light momentarily blinding her, and blinked them rapidly to rid herself of the blurriness. When it was gone, she tried to sit up on the bed, but the disproportionate weight on the pitiful bed caused it to tip and she went sprawling across the cement floor. Her cheek smacked the floor hard and her teeth clenched around the flesh, drawing blood.

The brunette struggled to her feet, spitting out the thick metallic-tasting liquid. It splattered onto the ground and she was finally on her feet. The room wasn’t composed of much, it seemed, but her eyes were drawn to the metallic door that must have been broken as it continued to open and close rapidly. Hero was afraid of braving the dysfunctional door, fearing a limb being caught between the rushing metal. Instead of messing around, she fell to the floor and tried to think hard of what happened before she woke up.

The Greek woman had gotten into a fight with her boyfriend, Tanner, in their apartment – that much she remembered. The reason why was a little bit fuzzy. Did they fight about taxes again or Tanner’s irresponsible spending? Did they fight about the girl in 2B or about their shared female coworker? Now that she thinks hard about it, it must have been about Tanner drinking too much – an argument that happened often, like all the others. Enraged, Hero had left the apartment without so much as a jacket and took a walk into the torrents of rain. And then she woke up.

“Am I missing something?” She thought to herself aloud, her eyes focusing on the blood on the floor just for the sake of a focus. She was brought out of her thoughts, however, when the crimson began to sizzle. The blood began to eat away at the floor, burning a hole into the cement as if it was lava. “What…?”

Hero gathered all of the blood in her mouth, though there was little left, and spat once again on the floor. The same reaction happened and it began to hiss against the ground. It was like acid. Chewing on her lip, she began to ponder the phenomenon when the insistent banging of the door halted. Swiveling around, the stuck metallic door gleamed back at her, but the sudden twist of her body brought a harsh pain that zigzagged down her back. Crying out, she reached for her shoulder and sagged to the floor, her forehead kissing the cold ground. Hero gasped and moaned, baring the pain, until finally it had dulled and she could move once again. With tears in her eyes, she stumbled out the door and into the darkness, but not before catching the electronic light that was impressed into the slab.

HERO KOKINOS
02/08/94
ADDMISSION DATE: 04/10/15
CURRENT DATE: 01/16/25

Hero sank to her knees, her lip quivering and her eyes burning as everything had finally gotten to her. The past few minutes she was running on nothing but adrenaline at the new situation; the situation was getting to her psyche, though, and the confusion, the variables that didn’t add up, began to take its toll. An embarrassing wail ripped through her throat and she sat there, hyperventilating. The brunette had never felt so alone in her life until no-

“Hey I need help. I-I’m stuck, I can’t get out!” The voice was faint, but it was there, and the presence comforted her if only a little. It took a second or two, though, for the words to register and she tripped to her feet.

Darkness surrounded her, pressing in, and she blindly staggered down the hall, her arms outstretched in front of her. She had almost ran into a wall more than once and actually did twice when she finally found the door. The bright screen that presented the name of the man crying for help blinked at her and she read it through squinted eyes:

ANDREW THORNE
03/21/91
ADMISSION DATE: 04/10/15
CURRENT DATE: 1/16/25

“H-hello?” Hero called to him, her voice stuttering against the metal. “Are you Andrew Thorne? I’m Hero Kokinos. I-I’ll try to get you out.” It was then she noticed the small crack and she pried her fingers into there, pulling and pushing as hard as she could.

It was so hard, though, and it didn’t even budge under her weight; the stress on her muscles did send another paroxysm throughout her back and she cried out. “I can’t move it. I’m sorry – I’ll keep trying.”

Ignoring the ache, she continued her procedures and poured her frustration into her arms, until she felt something wet on her fingertips. It came out of nowhere and began to coat the door in a gleaming sheen; the door began to fizzle and melt, bit by bit. It continued to move across the door as if a virus until there was a large opening enough to, hopefully, fit Andrew through.

[Lookie]

Oh, thank god, he hadn't just heard things. Andrew let out a relieved sigh, trying his best to get a glimpse of the woman behind the door. He wasn't completely alone. This was great, the man told himself, willing his hands to stop shaking. No reason to appear pathetic in front of a woman.

”Thank you so much,” the man spoke through the small gap. In between sentences, he did his best to take in deep, calming breaths. ”I thought I'd be stuck here forever. I'll help you from the other side. I'm sure we'll get this son of a bitch open!”

Was this woman with the maintenance crew? Andrew had a faint feeling that everything wasn't quite as it seemed, here. That didn't matter. What mattered was that he had some extra help now. He'd get out, and then he'd get home. And then Andrew would do his best to forget all about this. Maybe this woman – Hero she had called herself – would know what was going on, or could at least point the way out of here. She seemed friendly enough.

The hope of getting out was quickly dashed by a cry of pain from the other side of the door. With a cringe, Andrew stopped his pulling. The woman, however, insisted on continuing on.
”Uh, maybe you shouldn't stress yourself too much,” Andrew spoke up, trying to peek at the woman through the small crack. Hero wouldn't be much help to him if she hurt herself while trying to open a door. ”Couldn't you find something else to open this- hey, can you hear that?”

Andrew quieted down, listening to the fizzling sound. Was Hero using something to get him out? That was good and all, but a warning would have been nice. He kept his eyes at the door, looking on in confusion as it was melted away in front of him. By the time the sound sputtered to an end, there was a hole on the door, large enough to fit Andrew through.

Soon enough he was out, stepping into the dim, badly lit hallway.

”Thanks,” he said to Hero, trying to put on a brave face. He was probably failing miserably at it, too. Sometimes, it was more difficult to fake bravery. This was one of those situations. He glanced at the curious melted hole on the metal door that had kept him trapped inside.

”So, how'd that happen?” Andrew certainly couldn't see any equipment he'd imagined. Hero wasn't exactly dressed like maintenance, either. Suppose it didn't matter. Hero was a pretty thing, and kind enough to help him out. He had a feeling he could have met someone a lot worse in a situation like this.
”How'd I even get here? No wait, don't answer that. How do I get out of here?” he asked with an anxious look on his face as he glanced at his surroundings. It didn't bring him much of a relief. How could it, when all he could see were more unfamiliar places? This place really didn't radiate friendliness. Only then he noticed the screen on his wall, flickering and barely alive. His name and birthday, yesterdays date and leading to... 2025? Exhaling shakily, Andrew turned to his savior.

”Th-this, uh... that can't be right,” he said, tone confused and faint. He wasn't certain how many more surprises he could handle in one day.

[XxLyraxX]

Willow, who had been closely examining the contents of her room(which didn't consist of much besides a bed) froze as voices drifted down the hallway to her. Ok, so there were more people here than just her. She didn't know if that was a good thing or bad thing. Willow remained in the same position, evaluating her situation. She could go out and try to find the people that were speaking but she would be going out there blind and seeing as she didn't know just what kind of people she was trapped here with, it didn't seem like a good idea. However, if she just remained in her room then how was she ever going to escape? She couldn't just hide in here like a coward and wait for something to happen; she had to suck it up and do something.

The white-haired youth took a deep breath as she rallied together her courage. She examined the room fruitlessly again just to see if there was anything she might have missed but further inspection revealed nothing. So she sighed and took careful, quiet steps towards the door, hand on the wall to help guild her. She entered the blackness and closed her eyes since her limited sight was useless anyway. She focused all her senses before her and began to slowly head towards the voices. She soon opened her eyes and was able to make out two dark silhouette's, however she was unable to make out gender but based on the voices it was a man and a women. She paused, remaining just out of sight as she carefully listened, hoping her snow white hair wouldn't betray her position in the black.

[teapotshark]

As the footsteps and voices came closer, more joined them. The next were fainter, farther away, and desperate; someone was calling for help, and another answering. Relief that she was not alone and fear of who the others could be toyed with the stability of her emotions. The noises increased; the sound of doors being forced open and conversations igniting. Connie kept her back pressed against the wall beside her holding cell, a small area of the corridor around her illuminated by the light of her screen.

Orbs of light from screens up and down the corridor offered brief respite from the darkness, but between them she could see nothing. Footsteps gradually increased, echoing through the corridors, and still no one came. The longer she waited, the more indecisive she became. She feared growing too comfortable in the solace of darkness, for what might be born of it. Connie shook her head and rubbed her eyes. No, that was silly. You're succumbing to childish fear and fairytale beliefs, she told herself. You're a scientist. You have a logical mind. So think.

The proverbial cogs began to turn once again, the mechanical whir sending fear to the back of her mind. She took a step into the darkness of the corridor, towards the pair of voices she heard moments ago. If I'm an experiment, then there are scientists are involved. Another step. The light of her screen and the comfort that came with it disappeared behind her.

Each logical step towards unravelling the mystery was rewarded with a physical step closer to sanctuary of other people. What was it they said in those cliché films? To understand the scientist, you must become the scientist. That was easy. She was one step ahead already. She rewarded herself with a faster pace, walking on her tip-toes to remain silent, lips quirked prematurely in a triumphant smile.

Connie watched the ground, unable to see her feet, stepping ever closer to the pair of voices up ahead, until she bumped into something positively not wall-like and one-hundred percent human-like. She jolted back and reached for the wall as if it could protect her, staring at the bright hair of the person she'd unwittingly collided with.

[Nytem4re]

Where was it? It was no longer here.... they must have taken it.... Must get back. Now. The thing clawed the inside of it's cell, obviously aggravated by something... or someone. But with the quarantine lifted, it's cell door opened just a bit.... but that was all that was needed. It burst through the door and sniffed the air. It could smell the taint. The taint smelled exactly like the ones who had taken it away. Free of it's cage, it jumped into a nearby vent, and let out a blood curling scream. The hunt was on.

"Warning. Subject H-666 has breached it's containment cell. Attempting to activate emergency procedures... Attempt failed. All personnel report to the nearest security checkpoint. The proper officers have been notified and are currentely working on containment. Please, do not panic."

[Apokalipse]

Hero smiled once she got a full view of the trapped man. “It’s not problem, I’m glad I could help.”

Hero’s knees wobbled a bit at the sight of the half melted door and shrugged her shoulders at Andrew’s question. “I don’t really know. One minute it wasn’t there and then it was. Acid, I think.”

She could feel the anxiety radiating off of him - it must have been a lot if she was able to pick up on it - and she wondered idly if her could feel hers as well. It rolled off her shoulders in waves of terror and fright, blanketing her in nervous twiddling and ticks. The only thing keeping her calm at the moment was the company the new man brought – being lost together is better than being lost alone, she guessed. Hero had been stuck so much in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice Andrew’s glance at the screen.

“Th-this, uh…that can’t be right.” Hero shuffled her feet and patted him on the back awkwardly in a small attempt at consoling. Clearing her throat, she began to talk,
“Maybe there’s a glitch in the computer system? I mean…so far of what I’ve seen of the place, it’s not exactly reliable. I mean, the door got stuck for Christ’s sakes. We should probably, um, go find someone who can tell us how to get out of here…if there’s anyone left.”

She swiveled quickly on her heel, prepared to search in the darkness, but she was too close to the back wall and her nose collided with it. Squealing, and embarrassed at her typical unawareness, she blushed and cleared her throat once again. “We should probably go that way. Heh, no walls are in there.”

She couldn’t have gotten more than two feet when the crackling came overhead.

“Warning: Subject H-666 has breached its containment cell. Attempting to activate emergency procedures…Attempt failed. All personnel report to the nearest security checkpoint. The proper officers have been notified and are currently working on containment. Please, do not panic.”

Hero was panicking.