Step!
Step!
Step!
Both our footsteps contrasted with eachother as we walked through the corridors of the cruiser.
The corridors of the Whistling Derrick were a metallic labyrinth. It was void of bright lights, cold and splattered with blood and scorched debris.
Water dripped steadily from busted pipes overhead, and ship's occasional groan reminded us that it was still barely afloat.
Lady Phoenix and I moved through it like golden and black phantoms, pausing at every motionless body.
Each time we stopped checked the body, we were met with burned hope to find out the person was dead beyond recovery.
"Dead too," I muttered, scanning the latest body. She nodded grimly and moved on without saying a word.
The air was still thick with the scent of smoke and burnt fuel. The deeper we went, the darker the rooms became. Until finished found it.
A large reinforced steel door, dented but still very much intact.
