Like a pill that makes you choke and stills your soul - I'll share the trap that you have me in.

[trustmods]

[For whatever reason, it seems tonight isn't a particularly good night.

It's difficult to say what's changed, but it's obvious that something has; there's a heavy feeling in the air, strange and suffocating and restless, sending pinpricks across your skin and down your spine. The feeling that comes when you're ascending stairs from a darkened lower floor and that unwanted voice at the back your mind kicks in and starts yelling halfway up, urging you to run, because even though you know that logically there's nothing there, your lizard brain has decided that there might be and that's more than enough to start screaming.

It's a nasty feeling. It's just hard to say why it's there.

Those patrolling tonight or otherwise out on the first floor after nighttime hits will have it particularly bad; the darkness isn't particularly pleasant on most nights, especially now that everyone knows a few new things about what our shadowfriend down in the pit is capable of, but everything seems volatile tonight. Thick and heady and almost writhing, tension-wise. The dorm rooms are safe, but the rest of the floor...well.

The rest of the floor will finally be seeing what the dead tried to warn them about.

It's mostly collected near the foyer, around that large clock in the center; it looks strange at first, but like something you need to stare at to really perceive – nondescript shadows on the walls and floor where there's nothing to cast them. But eventually...eventually they seem to get bolder. Moving.

And if one were to look hard enough – because it is very, very hard to see – there's very definitely a shape to imply that there's something there. Physically present. In the room with you.

...It's going to be a bad night.]

Comments

[decrees]

[Let's begin.

Nighttime patrols aren't unusual. Logan can't sleep very well and even when he can manage to get some sleep, he's woken by nightmares. Strangely enough, the ones about the Crawler have been less frequent lately, but maybe that's because he has other things to worry about here.

Regardless, he's up tonight and it's not difficult for him to see exactly what's wrong. For the longest time, all he can do is stand there, staring at the mass of shadows near the clock. They're moving, aren't they? They are. It's not an illusion and it's not something messing with his head.

That's really all the encouragement he needs. This thing isn't the same as the shadows back home, but it's close enough and it can be killed.

"You have done such hurtful things. The people you know shall rejoice in your death."

He unsheathes his sword. He studies the thing, finding exactly where he wants to strike. He moves.

"You will never escape the darkness. It flocks to you. Always."

Just last week he wouldn't have considered attacking it, but now he's entirely too close to the shadow monster and it doesn't matter, because it isn't the Crawler. What does matter is killing it, of ending this stupid trust exercise and saving as many people as he can. He drives the sword in hard to what he can only assume is the thing's back given the way it seems to be focusing on the clock.

Let this be the end of it.]

[trustmods]

[Have you lost your damn mind, Logan?

That said, this certainly isn't like the Shadows from Albion; there are no voices to be heard, no disparaging comments, no hallucinations showing the world covered in darkness and all those that are dear to you encased in flames. There's also no shrieks of pain and entirely too much resistance when the sword meets the mass, as though something is hardening around the blade, preventing it from doing too much damage but perhaps most importantly preventing it from being withdrawn again.

And then there are more of those thick black protrusions, solid black tendrils that shoot out whiplike and sharpened to a point – strong enough to damage metal, and when they hit him in the chestplate it's enough to crack it inwards into his body, and while that isn't enough to kill it's more than enough to break ribs and ensure that he's not going to be moving very well for a while.

Not that it matters; it strikes him in the chest again, breaking the chestplate and running him straight through.

The shadows don't recede right away, however; they just hover over him, poised to strike again. Ensuring that he's down.

That said, though, they'll shrink back immediately once anyone enters the room, taking up places on walls and the floor, watching but not interfering, generally being as nonintrusive and invisible as possible.

There's still the general aura of wrong and a body on the floor. But the threat will do you all the courtesy of being decidedly less present for the time being.

Either way, however...

Logan is dead.]

[perpend]

[Night patrol is nothing unusual. Cabanela has spent the last few days unable to sleep for more than a couple hours at most. He often leaves his room to patrol-- of course, he never expects to see anything, because he's never been that lucky.

Whatever this feeling he's getting now, though, sets him on edge. He can feel the hairs on the back of his head stand on end, and that's not a good sign-- not for a police officer.

His first usual stop is the foyer, and as soon as he steps in--]

LOGAN!

[He rushes to the body.]

Goddamn it, no! No! Who did this to you?!

[icysemblance]

[Weiss can't run fast enough when she hears Cabanela; she's across the first floor at first, but she's there as fast as she can move her legs.]

What - oh no. No. No, d-

[If Cabanela's on one side of the body, Weiss will be on the other.]

[forcegalactic]

[Mordecai has been out late tonight, and he knows something's wrong the instant the clock chimes just as he's returning to his room.

What is this feeling? Why does the darkness feel so terrifying all of the sudden?

Shit. He turns to his room, grabs one of the candles he keeps inside and lights it up with a match. Thanks, emergency supply pile. He can't afford to do nothing anymore.

He runs as fast as he can back to the other half of the floor and pauses when he feels that terrible feeling coming from the foyer. There's an angry voice from up ahead that cannot mean anything good...

And there it is. Logan's body.]

...What happened?! [He clings onto his candle for dear life.]

[perpend]

[He can't answer, doesn't do much more than cradle Logan-- he's in the school uniform right now (apparently that passes as pajamas for Cabanela), and let out what sounds like a shuddering, broken sob.]

[forcegalactic]

[Mordecai crouches beside Cabanela and places his free hand on his shoulder.

God.

Dammit.

Why did it attack Logan like that?]

[perpend]

I.... I can't.....

.....I can't save anyone.

[icysemblance]

This wasn't your fault.

[Weiss is as shocked as anyone, but she thinks that she sounds resolute despite that.]

He warned me, and I wasn't - didn't -

[...but she's not. Not really. And right now, she's going to do something she hasn't done this entire time: burst into tears.]

[forcegalactic]

[He squeezes his shoulder even more tightly.

There's not much he can say to argue against Logan's death. It's not Cabanela's fault.]

...I coulda done more...

[It's the same thing every time. He could have done more to keep Logan safe. He could have reminded him to..to do what? Carry a candle at all times? They were just talking about stopping the shadows a few days ago, and now...now...]

We can't--we have to find a way to stop 'em. We can't let them do this any more.

[decrees]

["Accept death now... It is so much easier than what is to come..."

...No.

"You are already dead inside. Join me in the darkness."

No.

Logan's body suddenly jerks as his heart starts up again. The gaping wound in his chest quickly heals and scars over, leaving behind a mark that looks just as faded as the others visible beneath his torn shirt. A second, smaller scar appears on his lip, slightly to the left of the first.

It takes him a moment to realize where he is and what's happening, and for one brief moment he can take comfort in the fact that he wakes up surrounded by people he cares about and people who care about him.

"Are you thinking of your loved ones now? Of how you will never see them again?"]

No-- Get back--

[And then he surges to his feet, completely fine with the fact that he literally just died and probably shouldn't be moving. He places as much distance between himself and the others as he can because he knows this isn't over.

"You have done terrible things... Did you think that I wouldn't know? Did you think that I would... Allow it?"]

Stay back, all of you!

[trustmods]

[...Why. Why do none of you stay dead anymore.

Logan's little display of...that is clearly unexpected, even after the entire incident with the flying, screaming Dio head; the shadows are quick to move again, sending a jolt of something unpleasant through the room – it isn't anger, the thing isn't angry with him. It's closer to a deep-running, very dark interest in what's happening; the sort of thing that brings to mind a predator locking eyes with its prey in the split-second before said prey bolts.

And then it strikes.

The sword is still lodged in part of the mass, the hilt gleaming in the low light of the room as it lunges forward; it moves with intense precision, avoiding the innocent, the unrelated parties that were here for the sake of mourning and trying to solve – its focus is on Logan, and that's what it's going to strike.

Shadows are never fixed in size, and this one isn't an exception; there's another flash of teeth and one of those protrusions stabbing him through the chest a second time, impaling him and staying there as though to hold him still, and thankfully the movement is quick and dark and reasonably obscured as it eats him whole. In other words...

Logan is dead. (Again.)

To the creature's credit, however, it doesn't seem interested in attacking the other Participants; it retracts again, up against the walls and the floor, and it's quite simply gone, the sword clattering to the floor.]

[decrees]

[wow, that was fucking rude]

[ninehundredlives]

[Susan doesn't spend much time out of doors past curfew. But she's been restless the past few days, thinking of Rakka and of Ashley and of home. She's not quite out, but she's leaning in her doorway watching her candle flicker when she hears the shouting.]

Shit. [She hesitates in the doorway, torn between running forward and going back for medical supplies. But that's too much blood...] Shit!

[Running forward wins out, and she goes to kneel by the corpse as well. He is definitely dead - she came too late.]

[blazeit]

[ It's hard to not notice a commotion once all the screaming starts. Bakugou, loudmouth that he is normally, though, has always been far cooler when under pressure. Still, Susan is close enough that she'll probably be able to note he's shaking slightly when he kneels down next to her, staring at the body... right at where the killing blow landed.

Enough force went into it to crack metal, then straight through... he could be wrong, but to his amateur eyes, the ribs look like they could be broken.

... This is reminding him more and more of a living shadow he also once fought. ]

This is... fuck. What the hell...?

[ He looks to Susan, mouth open, wants to ask her for an opinion on the wound, but he can't, it's too much too soon even for him. ]

[housenurse]

[and she'd been having such a nice dream, too.

she rushes out of her room at the shouting, candle in hand. when she reaches the foyer, she freezes-- poor Logan-sama, he's with his true love now-- but... there's no reaction outside of that. she's distracted. there's--

her voice is quiet with fear.] There's something...

[ninehundredlives]

[Her hands are at Logan's neck, feeling for a pulse she knows will never come. But if there's anything Susan's learned from all this time, memories and present murders alike, it's not to leave safety without a weapon.

She glances up at Sukuyo's words, reaches into her pocket, and pulls out an Instant Camera.]

Here... [She's on the floor, surrounded by everyone surrounding Logan. Not a good angle for light.]

[housenurse]

Susan-san... [she takes the camera with trembling hands. she turns her back to them, holding it up. maybe she can keep it off...]

[swirlied]

[ Yuuri is just returning to his room when he hears Cabanela, and he immediately runs in the direction of his voice. What he doesn't expect, though, is to see Logan's lifeless body there with him in the foyer. ]

No... [ This can't be happening. Yuuri rushes to Cabanela's side. ]

[nankurunaisa]

[The only reason Hibiki runs to the room, too afraid of the yells for once, is because she sees Yuuri dashing down the hallway. Right. Just because she found Rakka's body doesn't mean she can avoid this, this...she's part of it.

Her feet carry her to the foyer, but she stands off to the side, eyes wide.]

Oh...no, no, this wasn't supposed to...

[oftheland]

[...and it isn't even a Friday, so Giovanni didn't even have a jar prepared. He'd been feeling the wrongness too, so when he arrives (hastily shoving a jar in his pocket), Beedrill is close behind him and clearly on edge.

...this, though...]

...

I really think we need to get some light in here now.

[clearasmud]

[ Nightmares are a relatively new thing for Youko, and for that they're all the more frightening. Having company at night had helped a great deal, but still - they persist. On Monday night Youko awakens from one such nightmare, and it occurs to her once she's stopped shaking:

Shouldn't Logan be back by now?

Murders were only supposed to happen Thursday. That was the way it was. But it figured, didn't it? They'd grown complacent, the pattern was going to break eventually - but maybe there was still time. Youko's up and running out of the room before she has time to second guess herself. Not even the shadow's aura can do that - she assumes it's her own senses, telling her where to go, where the danger is, and she's so, so, so terrified but she has to make it time, she can't lose Logan-

...

Youko's world doesn't collapse when she reaches the foyer.

...

That happens when she's gripping his body, attempting frantically to do something she's never tried before but she should be able to do back home, she should, she should, she should be able to spare him some of her life energy if it isn't too late, just to kickstart his heart, she should she should sheshouldsheshouldshe---

...

But she can't.

...

That's when Youko starts screaming and doesn't stop. ]

[blazeit]

[ If there's one thing that should be abundantly clear by now, it's the fact that Bakugou has little concept of how to mourn properly, nor does he want to, even though he ends up doing so anyway. But seeing Youko react the way she does gets to him in an unpleasant way. He's annoyed, irritated, upset — but at whom?

It's not at Logan, it's not at whatever did this to him. It's not at Youko either, though normally such histrionics would have him infuriated to the first degree. It's himself. Because he doesn't know what to do.

For a few moments, he stands next to her awkwardly silent. And then he reaches out, hesitantly holds a hand out to her. She needs to get up. She needs to not cling to a corpse. He knows that, but what can he do? ]

[clearasmud]

[ Youko doesn't see anything not Logan's corpse. Their surroundings, the others - it's white noise.

And then person she cared for second-most offers her his hand.

...

Youko takes ahold of it and grips it like she's never going to let go.

Maybe she won't. Look what happened to the last man who did. ]

[blazeit]

[ Well, at least this means they already have got each other for when they proceed to get all the more traumatized.

... Bakugou's not going to be letting go for a while, if only because his will to shake off a hold (or do much but react, really) goes to shit temporarily. ]