[CENTER][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjExNi40NTQ1NDUuUTA5T1ZFRkpUazFGVGxRLC4wAA,,/bark.bark.png[/img][/center] [hr] [hr] The cafeteria was easy to find- there were multiple signs pointing there, and the subjects would find themselves directed like tributaries rushing into a river towards it. There was the heavy smell of disinfectent, artificial and welcoming, but the sight within the cafeteria was anything but. Yes, there was food- varied breakfasts left out, but there were others as well, and they were not all alive. Five figures in total [i]existed[/i] within the room, but only one looked likely to have blood still running through his veins. The man, for indeed that was what the alive figure was, a man, sat with his back and side to a wall, a large bowl filled with milk and cornflakes sat in front of him. He would look up as people entered the room, take up his mug of coffee and let out a loud slurp, wincing as he did so. Then, he turned back to his cornflakes, eating them messily and splashing the otherwise clean white table with damp crumbs and dribbles of alabaster. Really though, under the circumstances, such a messy eater was hardly even ranked as among the most offputting aspects to eating a meal within the cafeteria. Four bodies were spread out along the south-west and western wall of the cafeteria. Three wore totally black clothing- black helmets, black gas masks with black-tinted visors, black gloves over black sleeves of black shirts concealing black kevlar, with black trousers tucked in over black boots. All of them had their visors shattered and destroyed- red blood splattered across the destroyed glass. Eyes, cheeks, lips, noses... Holes had been torn through their faces, clean on one side, rough and torn on the others. Viscera- bone and pink brain matter, had misted over the walls. The last body was a little more visceral though. Whoever, or, indeed, whatever, had killed them had done so brutally and likely fairly quickly. The man had been gutted like a fish- rough, triple marks that could not have been made with a machined blade ran from his neck to his sternum, his ribcage, collarbone and hipbone torn open. The figure's clothing- a white rubber lab coat, was now matted and sticky with blood, whilst in his hand was a small blue plastic card. The smell of death, and of the last man's bowel contents was thankfully covered by the heavy stench of the disinfectant, but the grisly show was unmistakeably real even with one sense dulled.