[Yang]

squeaksqueaksqueaksqueak
wheels rolling on tiled floors; squeaking metal gears as the trolley moved. dull florescent lights pulsed and flickered, causing the neon-skeletal imprint on his long-since-stained fur to dance and glow in the blips of darkness. the smell hung in the air;  sterile, mildew, formaldehyde, spoiled meat.
squeaksqueaksqueaksqueak
the dark double-doors at the end of the hall were pushed in by the steel nose of the square steel steed, it's endlessly squeaking limbs skirted by the white satin cloth. He wasn't sure why the cadavers needed such lengthy pieces of fabric; every body he'd seen had yet to beat 6'0 in height, or 300 pounds in weight.
That wasn't including the parts that weren't found. Heck, last weeks accident with the sleep deprived pewter rhino and a family of muskrats proved that a body could have easily fit two trollies-  if the rest of the driver had been found. The family of marsupials could've been scraped out and fit on a dinner plate.

Sirus lent his body weight into the next set of doors, half-paying attention as he looked down at the sheeted body, laid ever so straight on the metal slab. Gentle waves of air cascaded over the sheer fabric as he walked purposefully on, playing out the illusion of there being seamless streams cascading over the body just below. Soft; gentle. Maybe thats why these sheets were used, as just a sliver of comfort, that perhaps whatever sliver of soul might be clinging to the husk would find easement in the tenderness of satin cloth.

Of course, it could just be his own preambling thoughts and the mostly-formaldehyde atmosphere in the backrooms.

[Yang]

~Ting~ting~ting~
The squeaking slowed to a stop as the distinct tune rung out. Sirus glanced over to his side, hand slipping underneath the white apron. Without his gloves on, the touch phone lit up right away. It read '21:07', with a
softly pulsing green light shining out the center of its screen. ~Ting~ting~ting~
One hand still holding to the cart and the other on the phone, he accepted the call and leveled it with his head.
"Hello?"
Soft-spoken yet firm, his voice carried in the white, empty hallways, a disturbing red & black mass under the light, or a blaze of neon bones in the dark.
The voice sounded fuzzed out, distant;  it was a friend, asking about something.
"Sorry, can you repeat that?"
"Drinks! I know I bailed last time, but I am Down! It's been ages, and I'm free for a night!"
"Ah.."
Sirus had forgotten about the meet-up with an old friend for drinks. There were so many hours spent in the unending florescent lights, under stacks of forms and medical fumes, that the rest of the world often ceased to exist. The hours spent in school, aviation training, and studying paled to being surrounded in pallid silence.
He paused a moment, looking up at the ceiling and letting out a slow breath. Outside. As a young adult, he'd never imagined himself as a person who would enjoy the indoors much. Yet here he was, completely and utterly encompassed with his job and aspirations, almost sorry to give it up in exchange for loud noises, bright lights and obnoxious personalities.  

"Yes, I can be there in an hour."
There was an exclamation of glee on the other end of the phone before Sirus hung up. He could feel his mood tilting already, wishing he could've stayed in the thought of streaming air and ghostly cloth. Turning left down a corridor, the wheels picked up their squeaking once more, the rhythm sloggish as the cart was pushed into a steel laiden room.

[Yang]

The steel room was aflood with a cold, steady light. Distant noises coalesced and echoed, bouncing against the walls and their hidden carcasses. In the far corner stood the only living being. A worn white coat, glasses and gloves as black as anything, the dragons scaled skin had a brilliant white sheen, the telltale horns poking from a swathe of black hair.


He stood steeped over another cadaver. Long gloved fingers moving with deft and precision with their tools and choices. Glasses perched at the end of a sharp nose, alarming red eyes cautiously gazing down, watching, as black blood beaded and dripped along each line. Machines hummed and pumped, heaving out blood, sucking out fats, draining.

Ozon glanced up, his head swerving like a bird, alert, steady and intelligent. "Thats the boy?" His voice was ice and his movements languid, standing straight and pulling the sleek black-blooded gloves off. The piercing red eyes looked languidly at the sheet; as it was, still, soft and white. Sirus picked up the clipboard. He'd read over the clip-boarded information before wheeling the guy down, and with his work-attuned memory, wouldn't need to see it again until tomorrow. "His name was Lance; caught the tail end of a bad car-crash. Apparently the guy was walking fine until a few hours ago."
"Oh?" Ozon took the clip-board absentmindedly, blank eyes still running over the covered body.

Sirus peered from the clip-board, watching the doctor with a distant appreciation. It must've been a power of some kind, as far as Sirus was concerned, to  have such an intense gaze. Perhaps the good doctor could see far more with the ghost-like cloth draping the cold cask.

[Yang]

Walking to a far corner where a white desk sunk nearly out of sight behind mounds of paper work. He shrugged out of his white coat, folding it over his arm. "Yeah. Medical sent him down; thinking it might be a brain hemorrhage."

Ozon looked away to the clip board, standing straighter as he flipped through the papers. The parchment was as stark as the doctor, and even had a bright stamp of red, standing stark in the upper corner.

"I'm calling it tonight," Sirus stated, placing the folded coat into one of the many small lockers tucked in the back with the desk, pulling out a scuffed and well-worn black one. It slipped on easy; his keys jingled in one of the pockets. "Completely forgot about getting drinks with Anna."

"Oh?"
Ozon half-listened, still skimming the information on the sheets. Work was rarely something he let up; Sirus could see the older gent had long since resigned engaging many lively activities.
If he weren't careful, it was somewhere Sirus could see himself winding up.
"Yeah, I guess she's still in town. We'll be heading down to the pub downtown; you're welcome to drop by."

Ozon 'hm'd, setting the clipboard in its hook and walking around to the sheet covered head.Gently he raised the sheet, face un-phased and unchanging as the gaze looked on through the spectacles. "I wouldn't doubt seeing more tonight." He muttered to himself, gently lowered the sheet down, picking the clipboard back up, quietly flipping through the stale information. "Have a good night, Sirus."

Sirus left quietly. He hadn't expected anything different for a response, though there was still a distilled disappointment. Whether it was because he had to leave work or that he was heading into a bright, drunken rabble without the chilled calm of the doctor, he couldn't say.

[Yang]

Sirus walked with a purpose, and a bit of a frown. The whitewashed walls passed by in a flush, the few other late-night residents a haze. Still, he bid a good-night to everyone he came across, most replying with a wave or a sleepy nod of their own. Everyone working there had been doing so for well over a couple years, and he was coming up to his 6th year, having originally come in under the Docs wing for tutoring and lessons on anatomy. Being brought into the world of skin, broken bones and flesh was much quieter, neater, and cleaner than he'd ever thought. It was almost like being in a library- someplace else he never fathomed staying still in for very long- as it was always very quiet, very chilly, and very somber. It was a peaceable somber though; something that could be warmed with a hot cup of coffee or good company.

He came back to reality with a start. The office door swung quietly closed behind him. Ahead, the nearly vacant parking lot, with his black truck parked just a few meters away. There was nothing out there besides him, and the (very) distant sounds of nightlife-  owls, crickets, and foxes.
For a moment, Sirus stood still.
That welcome calm of having worked a full shift, tired but still eager to get home, had completely evaporated. What was left was a cold, tight grip somewhere along his spine. Something wasn't settling well with him out here. Something was...off.

Gradually, he started walking forward. His bones glowed their soft light in the darkness, his breath held the last few steps as he reached the cab. Smoothly he popped open the door and stepped inside, letting out the held breath in a low 'woosh' as the calm came back. At the expense of feeling calm, he glanced out the window. He saw nothing.
Muttering to no one and doubting every word, "Probably a bear," came out sounding clipped.
The overhead street lamp flickered in response.

[Yang]

Inside, Ozon prepped another table for the morgues newest resident. Lining up the equipment he would need to explore the cadaver, silver trays lined the far side,neatly set on a white piece of cloth. The tags were filled and the papers filed; Ozone replaced his gloves with a standard white pair, and gripped the end of the sheet. Silently, he pulled it up and over, revealing an almost peaceful looking man, save for the bruising and inherent death surrounding it.

There was a low sound emitting from somewhere. Ozon frowned, brows furrowing, blinking.
He wasn't imagining it; he could hear it. A deep sound, not unlike humming, was quietly filling the room, sticking out against the whirring of the machines and the ever-constant buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights with its own tone and thrum. Standing straight, his eyes peered sharply over the spectacles, scanning the room for something that had disturbed the room somehow.

For a minute, Ozon stood, quietly listening. There was no radio, and it didn't seem to be far. He set the clipboard on the solidified ghost infront of him- and heard the humming grow faintly louder.
Frowning still and peering over his glasses, he lowered his head towards the bodies chest. A consistent constant drum; as if the heart inside the cadaver was vibrating at a rapid pace.

[Yang]

Nightfall was already on the town, and as Sirus drove back to town, it only grew darker. The radio softly talked about an accident on one of the highways before breaking into a western-sounding song, filling the cabin of the vehicle with a comforting forlorn feeling. Sirus forgot about the un-settling feeling, settling into his seat further as he drove the straight roads. There were bits of traffic coming and going, but their headlights were few and far between. A lot of them looked like they could use new lights, or at-least a wipe down.
Sirus thought about the pub, and his friend Anna. She was a childhood friend, and they'd had some good times growing up, exploring nearby woods and dragging on the governments politics and choices.  He'd settled down a ton as he came out of college with a degree and a career, easily getting into the swing of daily routine and the working world. Anna was always a 'Go Go Go!' person, and would have five projects and three jobs going all at once. He wouldn't be surprised to never see her settle into just one things for long.

A cars headlights suddenly appeared, nearly careening into his side.
Sirus jerked the steering wheel as a horn blared, "Shit!" swerving dangerously before straightening out again.

[Yang]

Where the hell had that car come from? It was so dark out, that Any set of headlight should've been seen coming a mile away! His stomach was in his throat, and he slowly eased off the accelerator, frowning as he squinted out ahead.
No moon or stars out tonight; the overhead lights looked far away, faded, and the road disappeared almost instantly from the front of the vehicle.

Sirus eased off the pedal until the truck was crawling to a near stop. The radio was still softly playing in its fuzzy warm tone, the only sound around.
He squinted and glanced, and couldn't find a single outline to spot. Trees, bushes, other cars, telephone polls, anything!
After a few minutes, he realized there was absolutely nothing that could be seen save for the glow of the dashboard.

It wasn't dark outside; it was Black.

[Event posts end here]

[Yang]

The engine quietly rumbled as the vehicle kept its spot. Sirus felt for his phone, rather glad for the faint comfort of the haze of the radio's playlist, flicking on his mobile to call Anna.

He put it up to his ear, peering through the windshield and trying his best to spot Something out infront of him.
He Might've spotted the outline of a telephone pole in the distance, though with this thick darkness, he couldn't be sure. The phone rang against his ear while the radios signal teetered, and began to fade out. By the the seventh ring the radio had become a soft sound of white-noise, and Anna's voicemail came up.

"Hey, Anna; I uh..Listen, I'm sorry to pull this on you, but there's some really strange weather going on...Almost got involved in an accident. I'll see if I can wait it out. If I make it to the pub I'll give you another call, but right now," He squinted out the windshield to no effect; slowly, he lent back in his seat. "For now it looks like I might have to backtrack to work, see if I can find a way around the..storm. I'll talk to you soon."

The phone beeped softly as he ended the call, and he took a heavy breath in. He didn't really beelive what he'd said- about waiting out the storm. This was something else, and there was no way he was going to make it any farther ahead without the Massive risk of running  into-or over-something.

After another minute of feeling his chest tighten and listening to the white noise, he shut off the radio and pulled the truck into gear, carefully starting forward and pulling into a U-turn. God, this was eerie; all he had to direct his course was the feel of cement of the rubber tires below.