[center][@Blazion][/center]

The Ghoul stalked the facility, a gruesome sight to behold. Randolph was wrapped up in a frenzy, brought on by the orgy of death, recognizable by form only. Visually, the only thing different was his gait and mannerisms, mentally, it was so much more. He adopted a stance much lower to the ground, sometimes traveling on two legs and sometimes on four. His mouth was constantly open, slavering and letting his tongue loll while he was not feeding. His sophisticated speech was abandoned in favor of guttural vocals. If one thought Randolph to almost be a man earlier, now they would think him more beast.

 Randolph’s critical mind was overtaken by instinct. Nature. Hints of the true state of Ghouls. No longer concerned with escaping, Randolph’s thoughts were occupied by the buffet that inhabits this metal cave. Sure, the meat was not yet ripe, but there was something to the taste of the freshly slain that he can’t find in centuries aged corpses, fear provided a unique flavoring. Something he has not tasted in a while, and something within him urged for more. There was a dark warmth to it, like coming home after an eternity away. What is a Ghoul but an amalgam of beast and man? Often more man than beast, but sometimes it is the other way around.

Though Ghouls parasitize off of man and his civilization, sometimes nature urges them to return to primitivism. The prison has prevented Randolph from indulging in this side of himself for so long, he was hardly able to resist, not that he wanted to. It was a calling that echoed in his soul.

It has been a long time since death has graced his senses on such a scale, an orgy of death that called to his primal instincts, the animalistic side of him. Like a desert wanderer finding an oasis, he was compelled to quench a bloodthirst. He did not see people, just victims. No faces, just food. Driven to kill anything that did not bear the aroma of death. If it did not smell like death, it did not smell like a Ghoul, it did not smell like a friend.  And nothing smelled like a friend here, which meant everyone was liable to be sustenance. Starting with those that attracted his attention with their threatening gestures, their attempts to stop him, then ending with the ones that were paralyzed with fear or ran away. He attacked relentlessly till they smelled of death, they smelled like food. Then when all was dead, he devoured to sustain his hunt for more.

No one was spared, no matter the colors they wore, the gestures they made, or the things they said, Randolph made no distinction. A dark path was left behind by the ambassador of sorrow and decay as he was guided by his senses to kill. Stalk, burrow, hide, ambush, kill, feast, repeat. From room to room, corridor to corridor, he would turn this prison into a mausoleum. He suffered injuries, but blood for blood, he would heal. With nature and pain whipping him into action, there was little room for thinking, for reasoning.

Randolph felt something resonating through the ground, something huge. Which means huge guts, a huge feast. A new quarry leads him in a new direction, traveling through the Earth Randolph could feel more instigations throughout the facility, providing a sort of heatmap of activity. But none gave as much luster as his mark, something moving with such force, it felt like a challenge.

Burrowing closer, Randolph could detect two creatures, a human and something else. Something much bigger than himself, but Randolph was not thinking clearly, he was pretty sure he could take whatever it was on. Randolph quickly emerged from below, collapsing the floor to make his entrance. Observers would first see the ground give way before the scent hit them. A concentration of blood viscera and bile that would make anyone thankful that the outsides smell a hell of a lot better than the insides. Once the ground opened large enough, Randolph would leap through like a dolphin breaching the surface of water, covered entirely in crimson with a few specks of dirt, debris, and chunks of flesh. Randolph has been eating messily, and he has been very busy. On some level, Randolph recognized Min-Ji, but he was more focused on the chitinous thing in front of him. He was prepared to announce his intentions, though not like anyone would be able to interpret his growls, when he caught a whiff of the creature’s scent. 

In confusion, Randolph dropped his aggressive stance, standing on his legs rather than crawling on all fours, and stopped growling and baring his teeth. He took a step to catch the scent again, it smelled pleasant. It smelled of death. It smelled of…. [color=blueviolet]”…Vrthk?”[/color] Randolph said confused. He meant to say ‘friend’ but forgot to switch to English from Ghoul. Randolph realized this strange creature must be Kailani, free from her human form. [color=blueviolet]”You…you smell nicer.”[/color] Randolph said weakly, his senses returning as the pain he was feeling intensified. 

Randolph started coughing, feeling something lodged in his throat. After a few seconds of violent coughing, he hacked up parts of a gun, something he must’ve accidentally bit into in the last encounter a few minutes ago. Looking down, he was surprised of how much human he got on himself and wondered how much of that blood was his. [color=blueviolet]”Think I got too carried away, that is too much iron for my diet.”[/color] Randolph joked, trying to sdownplay his injuries through humor. [color=blueviolet]”I just… I need to… to rest for a minute.”[/color] Randolph said, before collapsing, feeling safe. He just needed a little time to rest and let his body heal before moving on. Hopefully without going so feral again. With his vision fading, he felt himself being lifted off the ground by Kailani, with much chittering and a healthy licking. [color=blueviolet]’is she…giving me a bath?’[/color] Randolph thought, before darkness surrounded his vision. His body relaxed as the void embraced him, drifting into a dreamless sleep. There was nothing waiting for him.