Re: The Gradual Massacre (GBS2G4) [Round 1: Focal High School]
05-31-2010, 01:20 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by whoosh!.
The buzzing in her skull reminded Acacia of the time she'd walked in on the General's experiments, but this time it just fizzled out into words at some point. Except they weren't just words, they were a thousand times rarer, so much so that she'd not experienced it since before the apocalypse came. She was hearing this, this Controller person.
At the mention of killing, she'd experienced the dizzying thrill that had accompanied so many screams of others, but that faded quickly, stuffed down to the darker levels of her mind that she swore didn't exist. She was part of The Last Sanctum, an elite group of humane and logical scientists. Not a band of murderers and sadists.
Acacia Skammer opened her eyes to see an unremarkable hallway lined with lockers. The words of a crackling PA crashed around her mind like gifts from the heavens, then faded into the usual silence. Outside a window she could see darkness, but it appeared to come from the burden of a million droplets of water blocking out the sun rather than a routine night.
"I have brought you here to die..."
Fear kicked up a fuss then, squealing like a dying pig in the corner of her mind, but she ignored the extraneous workings of her mind for a second time. She just mentally slammed the sonic sight into working and pulled herself up to a slightly more dignified stance than that of being slumped on the floor.
Nothing moved.
She took a step, paused mid-step and strained her eyes. After a few tense seconds stretched to nigh breaking point she more forward a few more tentative feet, keeping her step as light as she could. But... Acacia peered at the steel-caps on her boots intently. Metal was noisy. Moreso than her boomer could mask, anyway.
Acacia risked a few more fevered glances around. Having a boomer was great, but no good for knowing whether there was a creeper plag standing behind you ready to make sure your relationship with the body below your head was cut unfortunately short. She shook her head, and slid against the wall so as to remove the potentially traitorous boots. They slid off easy enough, and her toes flexed gratefully at the advantage of the new space they now had.
And that'd be when she noticed the werewolf emerging from a doorway. Acacia Skammer skittered into the faithful shadows provided by a break in the lockers, tensed. Her heart rate increased dramatically, but she barely even blinked during her analysis of this unexpected individual. Emotion was for the weak.
No weapon visible on the lycanthrope, but you usually didn't bother with aggravations such as that when you had claws at your disposal. Nevertheless, he didn't walk like he was about to maul the next person he saw. Probably sane. The Controller hadn't mentioned anything like that, though. Perhaps he just wasn't judging on those terms.
But all this thinking is irrelevant.
She slid out from the shadows.
"Greetings, Pluck."
The buzzing in her skull reminded Acacia of the time she'd walked in on the General's experiments, but this time it just fizzled out into words at some point. Except they weren't just words, they were a thousand times rarer, so much so that she'd not experienced it since before the apocalypse came. She was hearing this, this Controller person.
At the mention of killing, she'd experienced the dizzying thrill that had accompanied so many screams of others, but that faded quickly, stuffed down to the darker levels of her mind that she swore didn't exist. She was part of The Last Sanctum, an elite group of humane and logical scientists. Not a band of murderers and sadists.
Acacia Skammer opened her eyes to see an unremarkable hallway lined with lockers. The words of a crackling PA crashed around her mind like gifts from the heavens, then faded into the usual silence. Outside a window she could see darkness, but it appeared to come from the burden of a million droplets of water blocking out the sun rather than a routine night.
"I have brought you here to die..."
Fear kicked up a fuss then, squealing like a dying pig in the corner of her mind, but she ignored the extraneous workings of her mind for a second time. She just mentally slammed the sonic sight into working and pulled herself up to a slightly more dignified stance than that of being slumped on the floor.
Nothing moved.
She took a step, paused mid-step and strained her eyes. After a few tense seconds stretched to nigh breaking point she more forward a few more tentative feet, keeping her step as light as she could. But... Acacia peered at the steel-caps on her boots intently. Metal was noisy. Moreso than her boomer could mask, anyway.
Acacia risked a few more fevered glances around. Having a boomer was great, but no good for knowing whether there was a creeper plag standing behind you ready to make sure your relationship with the body below your head was cut unfortunately short. She shook her head, and slid against the wall so as to remove the potentially traitorous boots. They slid off easy enough, and her toes flexed gratefully at the advantage of the new space they now had.
And that'd be when she noticed the werewolf emerging from a doorway. Acacia Skammer skittered into the faithful shadows provided by a break in the lockers, tensed. Her heart rate increased dramatically, but she barely even blinked during her analysis of this unexpected individual. Emotion was for the weak.
No weapon visible on the lycanthrope, but you usually didn't bother with aggravations such as that when you had claws at your disposal. Nevertheless, he didn't walk like he was about to maul the next person he saw. Probably sane. The Controller hadn't mentioned anything like that, though. Perhaps he just wasn't judging on those terms.
But all this thinking is irrelevant.
She slid out from the shadows.
"Greetings, Pluck."