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 Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 4:30 am
He was on hands and knees, and the bucket's water seemed neither hot enough nor adequately sudsy to get the job done. The blood pooled thickly on the tiled floor, more and more leaking down from the drawer above him. Sitting on an examination table, Clarice watched him, face corpse pale and bloodless. Her hands were missing and in their place were raw stumps. She smiled with cracked, dry lips. "You'll have to do better than that," she rasped, voice still holding a certain sweetness, even like this.
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Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 6:34 am
lizbot I heart you so hard right now.
There was a blessing in tiles. They rarely absorbed stains and cleanup was usually a breeze. Grout tended to be a pain in the a**, but that wasn't to say he had the brushes and tools to take care of those challenges – just not here. He was lacking many of the implements that would have made cleaning this spot successful. The water, for one, was not hot enough. It didn't make his hands sting when he put his hands in there, yet he could already feel his skin wrinkle underneath his now sopping wet gloves.
He'd cleaned blood up before. From his jacket, he had spent time and time again scrubbing and using different tricks until he made his own detergent that worked rather well in getting it out. He prided himself on his sparkling white jacket – but now the corners and the cuffs of it were stained as he worked on the ground, and the blood was becoming thicker the more it was exposed to the air.
He looked back to the unfamiliar woman. The stumps didn't bother him, and he wondered if anyone was taking care of her since she couldn't hold things herself. Is that why he was cleaning up here?
"I'm am, it's just…." He looked up at the drawer that dripped down. "I can't keep cleaning here with that dripping." He threw the wash cloth in the bucket, the water much too murky red now and needing to be changed, and rose up from his knees. He looked at the dripping drawer. "I can't get anything cleaned with this leaking."
But there was blood. So much blood coming from it. Why hadn't anyone cleaned in here first? Why was he the one cleaning it?
He reached out, slowly, to maybe try opening it. If he hose down the inside, maybe all the blood would stop.
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Posted: Fri Sep 26, 2014 11:50 pm
There is something jamming the door shut and once again, Clarice repeats, "You'll have to do better than that." The muted sound of a cell phone trills from within the drawer.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 1:22 am
"I'm trying."
He stared at the drawer, listening ot the muffled sound of the cell phone, and he started to feel a growing panic. He couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly, but he wanted to open the drawer as quickly as possible. He needed to, and suddenly a timer started in his mind with no definite number. Just NOW written in bold shouted at him. He had to open this drawer RIGHT NOW.
"There....There's someone calling." He said, voice twisted in a slight high pitch of panic.
He pulled at it, desperate to get it free, but there was something inside that was keeping it open. There were no visible locks on the outside, and yet he could still hear the muffled cell phone calling out to him. He needed to answer that call before it stopped ringing. Before he missed that chance.
Frantically he looked around, trying to find anything in this room that he could use to pry the door open. A crowbar? Some leg of something? Some tool or device that would give him the purchase he needed. As he did, he automatically started to ask for help. "Can you h-" But cut it off when he looked at her. Pale. No hands. He was supposed to be here helping here, not the other way around.
He gestured that whatever it was he was about to say, to forget he even said it.
He continued scanning the room for anything he could use, all the while giving the drawer a few hard tugs to see if he somehow loosened it. As he did, he could feel the blood dripping down onto his knees, soaking the fabric of his khaki pants and on his skin.
It was still ringing, but he knew he didn't have long. Just a few seconds.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 3:05 pm
She smiles in commiserations but simply continues to watch his efforts. They are in the morgue and there are other drawers along the wall, all of them unlocked.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 3:40 pm
He watched her watching him, and wondered what she thought. She wanted him to try harder than he was, expected more of him, and he didn't want to let her expectations of him down. Most of all, he wanted to impress her, to be useful, and above all reason, answer the phone that had been calling out and echoing in the wide, sterile space of the morgue. He didn't want to keep her here among the blood, sitting on the table, but she didn't exactly seem to be making any signs that she minded being here at all.
He looked around, but gritted his teeth when he saw that what little furniture was around was metal, something to easily spray down, and nothing could be broken to be used as a makeshift crowbar. If he could manage, maybe there would be some surgical tools like a saw or knife he could wiggle into the drawer to maybe shimmy it open.
That frustration out of helplessness started to crawl into his system, and he soon grew angry at himself for not being able to do more. Looking around on either side of the drawer he wanted to open, he reached for the one directly to the right, hoping that maybe he could see into the next one and get an idea of what was jamming it.
As he did, he paused, and looked at the bleeding drawer. "Do you...know who is in there?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder to her.
Not waiting for an answer, he clasped the cold metal hand of the drawer's neighbor and pulled it back.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 3:53 pm
The drawer slid out easily, the body within being petite. It was Peyton. Clarice answered quietly, "Somebody who's been waiting for you." The other drawers held friends and acquaintances, and they did not seem dead so much as very still. Not unlike those who in the pods, waiting to wake up. "It's possible it just needs further lubrication," she nodded at the bleeding drawer. Only the bottom was slick with blood.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 4:23 pm
lizbot Kinda went novel crazy. :I
Why was she here?
He reached out, hesitant at first due to touching her when she was undressed, and shook her shoulder. "Peyton? Peyton, are –" He couldn't find that sentence. They were in the morgue and all reason said she was here because of one fact, but it was not one he wanted to accept. She was too perfect, too capable to just sitting up. Maybe this was the type of hunter Harrison said would wake up again.
As he shook her, she didn't move. He wondered if she ever would. The woman had been there for him despite not knowing him or being part of his family. She let him butt in and despite hurting her feelings in a spar, she had talked to him and was starting to be one of the few friends he had. The few people he could talk to now. She was a good person, and didn't deserve to be here. Like all those other hunters who only hurt each other and didn't care and yet were still walking around. People like H and Caelius who didn't seem to give a damn about the people who were dying in the field each day for pointless missions.
No. Peyton would be fine. She would wake up soon enough.
He pushed her Peyton only slightly closed, leaving it ajar so she would have light and be able to breath and push it open once she stirred. "I'm closing this a little. Just…say something when you wake up. I'll be here."
He turned to another drawer, this time pulling it open and revealing Harrison. The blonde laid out, more calm than Melvin had ever seen him, and he wondered if this was how the man looked each morning before waking up. It was less troubling to see a man without a shirt, and he was at least slightly impressed that at least everyone seemed clean and well taken care of. "They seem like they could just wake up any moment." He admitted to this woman, and lightly touched Harrison's hair, only because he doubted he would ever get that chance. The man did not stir or wake up.
What if he didn't?
His heart started to beat a bit faster now, and he looked around at all the drawers. "Did something happen?" He asked, looking to her and then slightly closing the drawer like he had for Peyton.
He opened another. This one being Rep, and it seemed impossible such a large man could fit inside the drawer. His red hair was vibrant against the gray metal and spilled all over his sides. Having already seen the Sun naked, it wasn't a surprise to see him bare again, and he noticed, like the others, the amount of scars on their bodies. Rep had always been protected by Harrison so it wasn't any wonder he was here too if Harrison was, and he could only conclude they went down fighting. .Fighting what – he couldn't give any guesses but the one person who had stuck in his mind ever since the Sahara mission.
Was Medea to blame for all of this?
That panic from before started to rise, and since he had no recollection of what happened here, and yet he was alive now to see them in the drawers, he could only assume he somehow either wasn't there at all or lived without any memory of it. He was here cleaning up after the battle but hadn't been here to keep the mess from happening.
"I'm sorry…." He was surprised to hear his voice clearly croaking in the silence of the morgue. The Lifer touched the Sun's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "She protected you. Everyone protected you and yet you're here." Did protection even matter then? Then again, if he had been there, maybe he would have mattered.
No.
He had seen how useful he had been in battle. His presence caused people to make mistakes tending to him. As a Lifer, he didn't protect. He didn't help a person and their life.
He closed Rep's drawer a bit too quickly, nearly slamming it before he made sure to keep it ajar like the others.
The other drawers didn't fare any better, and once he opened Jordan's, he could only stifle a noise in the back of his throat as he shut it nearly completely again. He couldn't even say anything.
Then, he slowly turned to look back down the line to the first drawer he started at. The one that was bleeding. Unlike the others, this one had signs that it suffered.
And he wondered, after all the people currently here, which person it was.
He moved back to it, past the line of sleeping hunters, to it again.
Blood below. It needed blood above. He cupped his hands under the dripping drawer and then started to pour it back on the top. It unsettled him that it was warm. Like Peyton when he touched her, her body had been warm. Alive.
"This isn't right. This doesn't feel right." If the body was warm and bleeding, it needed to get out.
And what of the phone call? Someone was calling this person. They still had their phone – where all the other people had been naked. Someone needed this person to answer.
He wanted them to answer this call more than anything. He wanted to be there for them and stop this bleeding. This suffering. This end they were approaching. He was the only person here and he was, unfortunately, the only person that could help.
"Is there a scalpel or anything I can pry this open with?" He asked her as he continued to pour blood on top of the drawer and tried it again.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 5:49 pm
The drawer began to slip open, just a bit, just enough to afford the smallest glimpse of sable hair. "I'm afraid you might have to borrow some to open it all the way," Clarice's voice was apologetic as her eyes slid to the other drawers.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 6:14 pm
The hair had his eyes growing wide and he shoved his hands as if ready to scoop up all he could only to have his fingers jam inside the limited space given by the drawer.
It couldn't be.
It had to be.
"..Rin?" He asked, just like the others. "Oh my god, Rin. I'm here. I'm here! I've got you. I'm right here. Please, just - just keep awake. Just keep in there. I'll be there in just a second." He was frantic and near tears as he looked at the drawer, hands running over the cold metal frantically to find some way to easily get inside.
Heart pounding, he started to pull and yank with all his might on the handle, but by now it was slippery and hard to manage. Still, he pulled, but it did not move any further.
She was here.
She was here right before him and all he had in his way was an uncooperative sheet of metal.
She was waiting here for him, bleeding out, and he had to save her. He had to get to her.
When the woman spoke to him, he turned to her, and then his eyes went to the line of hunters resting in their shelves.
Looking about, he moved next to the examination table the woman was on to the rolling tray that held a clean, sterile line of tools. He grabbed a scalpel without waiting and moved in front of Peyton's drawer before moving right back to Rin's.
He held his arm over the top. The hunters beside him had already suffered enough and had protected him more times than he could count. He wasn't supposed to be alive now. Rin wasn't supposed to be here. No one was – and he had no right being alive when they were better hunters than he was.
For once, he should get the scars they all carried.
As much as he was determined, the idea of cutting himself was not pleasant, but the ringing phone and warm blood had the urgency to remind him that there was no time. He could heal. He could that, and if anything, Rin and this woman had survived without. If it meant a hand. If it meant an arm. If it meant more – he would get to her.
He pulled back his sleeve and hunter's jacket, and then cut down the back of his own arm, making a clean line all the way down and turning it. His teeth clenched as he gave a long muffled cry between his teeth. The blade, while cool, made it feel as if he was cutting a line of fire down his skin. It didn't take long for the red to start flowing warm and he already felt faint. He gripped the handle of Rin's drawer as he leaned against the wall, looking down at the sable hair.
He felt sick.
"I'll…I'm coming, okay? I'm coming for you." He whispered, and tugged again.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 6:23 pm
It slid open in painful, resistant jerks, protesting all the while, but soon enough Melvin was staring down at Rin's pale face, his phone lodged in her mouth. The display cast her features in blue light that faded and brightened with every ring. The name and number on the screen were her own, the call he'd been waiting for had finally come.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 6:37 pm
Despite the warm flush he felt from his now bleeding arm, one he held close to his side, he felt a wave of relief as the drawer finally opened to reveal what he had suspected all alone.
"Rin." He whispered, finally breaking down as tears welled in his eyes at the sight of her. Her beautifully black hair, still shorter than the day he first met her but was growing out and recovering from the fire and bug problem from before. It had been soft to the touch, and as he moved in, curling over her and moving in just to hold her a moment, to cradle her in his arms, he was overjoyed just noticing the smell of her. The smell that was starting to fade on sheets and pillows in his room. The scent and presence of her still lingering like a precious perfume no longer in production; the ingredients too rare and extinct now for him to replicate.
He tried so much to preserve the very presence of her in his dorm. He no longer slept in it. He kept her things that, and he had vacuumed sealed the clothes still in the hamper and did the same with the bed sheets and pillow cases. Her things now resembled those after a accident, preserved as evidence. Evidence that she had been here – alive and breathing and with him in a space and time he cherished. Her comb. Her toothbrush. The papers of half-scrawled notes. All bagged and placed in an obsessively organized design in a cardboard box among Rin's things.
Nothing was thrown away. She'd need them when she came back.
He rested himself against her lax body and turned his head at the phone, touching her face and removing the phone before kissing her lips. She was warm like the blood, and he expected her to inhale any moment now. He expected to hear that soft heartbeat that he would listen to late at night when they rested side by side. When he had the moments when he wasn't bothered by her touch or company. When she was warm beside him, there, and filling up the space that was reserved just for her forever and always.
"Please….get someone in here to help." He said to the woman before his blurred vision set to the number on the phone. It was one he knew – it was one he still sent texts to after that day despite himself – even when he knew the number was out of service now.
He looked at Rin before her, then answered the phone slowly, looking down at her and pressing his brow to her as he spoke directly to her. "Rin?" His voice croaked.
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 6:42 pm
"Open the door."The lone was fuzzy and broken, but it was still, undeniable, Rin's voice that spoke.
"Open the door."When next he glanced at her face, he would find her eyes open, staring up at him with a lifeless gaze that glinted wetly under the morgue lights.
"Open the door."
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 6:54 pm
She sounded far away. Distance. In some place that made it hard to talk. A room? A dungeon? A cave? His mind raced to places Rin would be that would keep her away from him. If her voice was there and she was here, then he had been right that the body that was burned hadn't mattered. She was still out there. She was alive and that meant, if she was speaking, she could return.
Because she had to want to return. He had to bring her here. She had to let her live the life she was meant to live and to be happy again. Happier than he could ever give her, and then, only then, could she die on her terms. The right way. The way normal people, GOOD people, died.
The presence of those laying on slabs behind him felt like a dark shadow.
Good people did not die this way. It wasn't done.
He held her face with one hand and clenched the phone in the other, careful not to break it but not wanting ot let go even for a moment. "Rin?!" He called back.
A door?
"What door? Where are you?! Are you locked somewhere? I'm looking for you! I'm coming for you, I'm trying so hard. Where is this door? Where can I find you?!"
He had to open this door. If she called him to open a door, that must mean she was locked away. Was she a prisoner? Where was she? Where did she go and how could he get her here?
"RIN?! Where is the door?! PLEASE!" He called to her, and as he did, he looked at her, staring down at her, calling directly to her as if both the phone and her face would make him heard. The crackling had him worried. How long could he speak with her?
He had to help her. He had to stop this bleeding.
He had to free her and bring her back to him. Back to fill the spaces she left vacant.
"I need you……………….
…I'm so sorry….I'm so sorry."
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Posted: Sat Sep 27, 2014 6:56 pm
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