#phantomdirge

Not a problem. I rarely do these, but just thought I’d send in something to ya.

*Screeches*

The chair creaked lightly as its occupant rocked back and forth in it, working eye swaying wildly from monitor to monitor on a drug-induced paranoia. A gun was lying on the desk's surface, right next to her boot. It was a weapon she knew well, and had kept in possession for many years. Yet now she was afraid of picking it up.

It’s fine, you’ll be fine.

The toxins were wearing off, but she was still not all the way cured. Two months of torture and interrogation had taken their toll. Reeve had insisted with the other doctors that he trusted her to be out of the psychiatric ward by now, but did she trust herself? No, she most definitely did not. She could not be left alone anywhere, except here. The security room, shut inside with no one else, eye on the monitors.

You can do this.

More rocking in the chair, teeth chewing anxiously at nails. It was the dead of night, this was when her internal alarm went off. It was when the questioning usually started. More rocking. Fingers went from mouth to desk, rattling on it rhythmically. 

Everyone here is your friend. You’re safe. You have to protect them, you can’t hurt them.

It was good she was in here, and not somewhere she could hurt someone. But the gun was there so she could hurt someone. It was probably why she had been put on guard duty on the graveyard shift. Dark rings around her eyes and tensed shoulders told she still hadn't recovered from the experience. Eye scanned nervously.

A movement.

Caught in the corner of her eye, something had showed up on a monitor. Hand instinctively went to the gun, safety off and ready to fire in a split second. Senses fully alert.

Again.

phantomdirge:

Echoes of the metal bars were lost inside the jail-house. Not so much as a voice could be heard or the squeak of a rodent disturbed by the loss of silence. For only the two had been present for who knew how long. It seemed as though it were merely a dream– the silence and darkness were unreal. Taking a step out of the cell, Vincent slowly took a few steps down the hall. The stench of mold and death were only faintly noticed, as though the place had been without use for a long time and allowing it to purge. There were nail markings along some of the stoned walls, dark smears of what appeared to be blood from long ago. The place had once been very active, yet there remained one last inmate who was now alone… but free. Harm was still potential, but with the immortal at her side, such things were unlikely to take place as easily. “This way,” Vincent told the girl over his shoulder, stepping deeper into the dungeon’s chambers. A faint light shown several feet above, to which a flight of stairs was needed to be conquered. Along the way, Vincent knew there would be intruders, and he paused at the door of another chamber, turning to the girl behind him. “If you’re not able to do combat, say so now and I will compensate.”

⊰ † ναℓαgυα † ⊱ ———— :

                                                                                   The pain shouldn’t be a big deal at this time, all her life was sentenced to be nothing but an experiment, one of the many specimens within the Organization that was condemned to the endless poison of suffering. However, it was a lie. Getting used to the continual twinges that run your body and the brain strives to support and stand, it is a lie. Despite being sentenced to feel those sensations above, it is impossible to get rid of them altogether. The pain never goes away, you simply learn to live with it. However, the redhead had left the practice, which caused her heart to beat faster after the torture sessions.

                                                                                   As the gunman led the way out of this place, the fememine remained in silence, holding her indicator against the abdomen. The blood kept leaving her entity, but less than before. Dying was not an option here, even when she tried to quit more than once. Escana wouldn’t allow it, always bringing her to life after her attempt of suicide. She kept telling her that it was for a reason, “I feel it, you’re destinated to be something more.” Honestly, Valagua didn’t know if believe or not. It has been so much time, that the circunstances should be known, but it was quite the opposite.

                                                                                   The nail marks deforming the wall, the dark smears captured by her glaze… All of that seemed more than familiar to her persona, letting go a sigh, so low that it was almost inaudible. The cage in which she once slept was just like this, always dark and full of violence. ‘This way.’ Valentine’s voice reached the shells of her ears, causing her attention to return to reality as her steps made no sound to be recognized.

                                                                                   Emerald gemstones faced the rubies ones while speaking. Was it so hard to climb all those stairs? It shouldn’t be. Normal people would ask for help, but he had done enough already. Her pride would fall until the floor if she kept allowing him to do everything. The Angel shook her head slightly, straightening slowly before pulling out from her back pockets two leather gloves. Dressing the pale hands, this ex-soldier uttered her whispers. ❝I’m fine, please take the lead. I will be right behind you.❞

@phantomdirge

The man in front of him was dangerous, Byakuya could tell that much about him but that didn’t help him to identify what was different here. He kept Senbonzakura in front of him, grey eyes watching the man’s every step.