Ishida watched as he saw Kirigiri's door shake... she had obviously pushed something against it to stop him from coming in...
Luckily for Ishida, he had no need to kill her, that would make things a little pointless.
Stupid, even.
The white haired boy shook his head, trying to stop thoughts from flooding into his mind... that was enough thinking for the minute, he had to get to work, as he had promised. Work was something He seemed to value greatly, so Ishida always thought about Him when he did it, however awful his "work" actually was. His crimson eyes blinked in the darkness of the halls, glowing an eerie red and acting almost like built in torches.
He spat.
The taste of Aoi's blood was still on his lips, it was thick and warm on his tongue, with the taste of wet metal. It was slightly sickening, and Ishida allowed a string of saliva to drip from his mouth as he tried to dispose of it's disgustingly familiar flavour. Ironic considering he was often called "Bloodthirsty"... although he knew that was just an expression.
Ishida opened his mouth to spit again, before thrusting his hands into his pockets, and walking down to the other rooms and checking the doors.
His eye was twitching as he eyed the doors, jiggling the doorknobs, careful not to make too much noise.
Rattle, rattle... click.
Yup... one student had left their door unlocked... he looked up at the nameplate.
"Ishimaru Kiyotaka"
Ishida sighed, kicking the door and growling. He didn't need to get into His room! The tall boy groaned softly, before pushing his back against the door, honestly exhausted. "Ack... why'd I have to forget so friggin' much?" He sighed, pressing his hand to his pulsating eye again. He started to go back on what he had told himself previously, and put off work for the sake of thinking about the girl. She said her name had been Kyouko Kirigiri... it had a nice ring to it. Ishida chuckled slightly, reminding himself of her ruthless murder of her so called friend... it was another instance of beautiful irony.
He hurt more than he cared to admit... but considering the fact he had been vomiting blood he was feeling sick anyway... Ishida gritted his spiky teeth and held his breath, before pulling himself away from the door.
Strolling down the hallway again, he coughed quietly, reaching the Dining hall, and walking into the kitchen, the school still melanic.
He liked that word... "Melanic"... it was a suitably melancholy word to describe the kind of darkness he was seeing all around him.
Ishida shuffled around in the Kitchen, trying not to trip over anything and failing horribly, tripping over the side of a table and flopping over the counter, his face slamming onto the surface with a loud CRACK
He cringed a little, and looked up, hoping nobody heard that...
His eye had been pushed a little out of it's socket from the impact, so Ishida bit his lip, and pressed it back inwards with his index finger and thumb.
Before he knew it, his lip was bleeding, his teeth digging into it to distract from the ultrageous pain that pushing your own eyeball back into your head provided.
He banged his head on the counter again, reaching for a knife on the rack... that would do for now. "I suppose the first thing to do... is to kill muscles in 'er sleep..." he sighed, spitting out blood as he spoke.