Stumble

Rokharth ignored my insulting gesture, instead pulling out what appeared to be a copper plated pocket watch and grimacing at what it displayed. I, of course, used my Extreme Paranoia to take a look at the clock face (ignoring the cold water that flowed down my spine when I realized the implications of me not having noticed that watch until he pulled it out) and saw that the local time was similar to Earth’s, even using english characters on the face.

Which, I only just then realised, was somewhat odd; I’d just taken for granted that everyone was speaking English, but with a moment of exhausted thought it struck me just how strange it is for an entirely different dimension to speak the same language as a handful of nations on my planet.

A click of the vampire's tongue drew my thoughts back to the present, "Well, I'd love to have you run a few more tests, but Markus wants you at the big boy table for lunch today." He grinned sardonically down at me, "Apparently you got his attention earlier; whether that's good or bad is yet to be determined.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Pheh, get up, make sure you aren’t about to pass out, then I’ll-" He paused, a look of consideration flashing over his face for a moment before a thin smirk spread across his face, “Then we’ll see if you can make it to the feast hall on your own.”

I stared deadpan at him for a moment before spitting a glob of maggots and saliva his way. He dodged around it with a casual grace that only made me more irritated, “Heh heh heh, consider it a part of your evaluation; you won’t make a very good infiltrator if you can’t even find your way around friendly territory, now will you?” He smirked at me, not bothering to wait for an answer before blurring out of the room. An echo chased him, his voice lingering a moment longer than he himself did, “You have thirty minutes to make it on time, I’d recommend you not be late!”

I sighed, frustration and misery slipping through my teeth as I allowed my head to fall back against the hard floor. I wanted to just lay there until my muscles stopped aching, but I knew that would inevitably lead to me just laying about doing nothing for hours on end; normally not a course I’d exactly shy away from, but given my current company it might be a rather fatal mistake. I took a deep breath, silently urging the flies within me to numb my burning muscle fibers as I forced myself to move.

I groaned as I slowly peeled myself off the floor, only for it to change into a vaguely satisfied sound as I could feel my hive buzzing about and all the aches and pains across me fading into an almost pleasant numbness. I still had very mixed feelings about these horrendous parasites eating me alive and laying eggs in my still living flesh, but the fact they seemed to be able to somehow interpret my will and assist me was nice (even if it did almost make me break down in another paranoid fit at the thought that they might be able to read my thoughts (the fact that the thought of the maggots in my flesh burrowing into my brain to hijack my thoughts didn’t net me a point of Extreme Paranoia only made the gibbering in my basest thoughts grow all the louder)). I’d have loved to have used them to take away my pain while I was actually exercising, but the fact that I could barely get a grip on the ground below me as I tried to stand up told me that my choosing to abstain had been the right choice.

I managed to find my balance and stand up relatively straight, a task made far more difficult by nearly entirely losing my ability to feel across my formerly aching limbs; it turns out, maintaining your balance is a lot more difficult when you can’t feel the earth below you. Still, at least with the searing ache masked by a deep numbness, I could function without rest. Sure, it might not be the healthiest idea long term; but considering the veiled threat Rokharth delivered, I’d rather overstress my muscles than even just maybe get shot.

I stumbled out of the damnable gym, briefly glancing around the hallways for any sort of signage (and lamenting it’s lack) before sniffing the air. My nose was far more powerful than it had ever been as a human, easily picking up hundreds, perhaps thousands of scents; most of which I ignored, singling out the distinct smell of Rokharth.

Now, my first instinct was to follow him, assuming that not only would he know his way around, he would be heading straight for the cafeteria. Of course, I knew that he would know that I would guess that, and I wasn’t able to dismiss the idea he may have predicted me trying to follow his scent and deliberately taken an extremely roundabout route just to fuck with me. With this in mind, I decided to follow where the majority of scents seemed to be heading, assuming that the food court would reasonably be a place most would have traveled towards from any given location (that and any beds, medical centers, and whorehouses, but I figured I’d be able to smell the difference sooner than later).

Extreme Paranoia +1

I ignored the system telling me I’m insane with practiced ease, cracking my neck and setting on my way. I took a deep breath through my nose, holding it in for a long moment before letting it out in a long sigh, releasing a small cloud of curious flies that buzzed about for a moment before settling back on me.

I repressed a shudder from that little horror show, setting my mind to processing the scents I had taken in. While I had no frame of reference for what almost any of these smells meant, I could easily tell that the vast majority were headed to or coming from the right.

The fact that only Rokharth’s scent broke off from the majority and headed off down some dusty hallway not a hundred feet from the door only vindicated my decision to double check him (though an even more paranoid and curious part of me wondered if he wasn’t actually taking a shortcut or something before I strangled the thought in its crib).

There comes a certain point in any paranoid theorizing where you get beyond actionable doubt; wasting your time pursuing the faintest possibilities when more pressing matters are at hand is how one can know they've crossed the thin line of rationality separating the cautious from the mad.

I like to think I'm on the reasonable side… but I'm not one to deny the possibility I had left reasonable doubt a few miles back, even if I wasn't about to start being less cautious. I'd take paranoid and alive over happy and dead any day.