Behind Drakmor, on the stairs he had just climbed, he heard movement. It wasn't just any movement, it was footsteps. Several pairs of them. Without surging his blood, Drakmor would have never heard them. Darn it! The guards were already this close? Well, he had taken quite a while getting out and getting moving. The ringing was still going through his ears, but at least he could hear right again.
Well, all he could do now is up the surging and run faster. The next set of stairs was close by. The Creators allowed the creations like Drakmor and the others to go up to the fifth floor down. Drakmor had lost this privilege due to his many escape attempts, but others had not so Drakmor passed a few as he ran. Luckily, it wasn't anyone like Bleard or Lucas. Those two could and would stop him if they could. Mainly just because they felt like it.
Then again, Lucas might kill the guards instead.
In any case, Drakmor didn't bother with stopping. If he passed either of them, then he would take another route. There were several routes he could take on each floor up until he got to the top four. Then, things would get hairy. Drakmor passed a creation known as Randall and shoved the man into a nearby room. Would be bad if he got caught up in Drakmor's mess.
There! Drakmor nearly jumped up the entire set of stairs and continued on to the third set. Luckily, the next four sets were easily found and none were obstructed by the creations wandering about. It must have been early in the morning, because there was usually more. After the seventh set was passed, Drakmor realized just why the creations were not out and about. There was a massive line of them going toward a large door, with tons of guards standing there, looking at Drakmor. Well then.
Drakmor immediately ran around a corner and made his way to the eighth set. It was longer this way, but bypassed the entire inspection room. Drakmor had forgotten about inspection day. The Creators were most likely waiting for the rest to finish before they got to him. He was, afterall, the Steelcrusher Drakmor, the troublemaker of the entire facility. Last inspection had sent the inspections back a week because Drakmor had destroyed the room. Wasn't his fault it was made from only a thin wall of steel instead of the usual two inch thick.
Drakmor made it to the eighth set at the same time the guards did.
"Creation 129, refrain yourself!" a large guard with a yellow wrap around his arm shouted. That would be a captain. And judging from the size and the short brown hair over his masked head, that was Dwayne.
Drakmor dived into a hallway to avoid the darts that flew by. They had tranquilizer guns, as usual. "Never! I will see the Surface!"
"Subject 129, how many times do I have to tell you there is NO surface!" Dwayne yelled back, this time closer. Thanks to the lack of ringing in Drakmor's ears, he could now gauge just how far the man was. A few feet... Hmmm. Well, Drakmor could use him as a hostage, maybe. Or maybe he could...
Just then, a loud footstep came from down the hall Drakmor was hiding in. Judging from the style in which the stomp was done and the sound it produced... Darn it! Drakmor had to leave. Now!
Drakmor took a chance by jumping out and charging for the door. He used every but of his surging he could muster, making him cringe when thinking how it would effect him later on. Luckily, the darts shot at him all missed, except for one that hit his prosthetic arm and bounced off. The thing was getting more and more useful. Drakmor wold have to ask what it was made of if he got the chance. No time for that, though.
Severain was coming!