Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap against the floor fluttered this anxious multi ghoul's heel. Paranoia personified. His bedroom walls were marked by posters of bugs and flowers, bands and classic movies, some pictures he'd taken on the many tour stops, an entire shelf of records that was rather impressive for such a short time topside, and years of memories baked into every thing he owned, what was supposed to be a personal haven for himself, instead stood around him with a foreboding aura. If you were to walk in on Swiss, sitting there on the edge of his bed with hands folded in front of his mouth, elbows on his knees, and foot tapping away, all you would see was the poor thing sitting alone in his room in an agitated state. His bedroom was just as he left it a day or so prior; a few bits of clothes tossed into the bathroom hamper, guitars posed nicely on the wall, records lined up by genre and artist, an ashtray gone grey and cold, this bedroom look just as innocent as any. But that wasn't what was happening. You wouldn't see how the dark walls closed in on him to swallow his him whole yet left him feeling too open and exposed simultaneously. His door was locked. As it always was. But no it wasn't. Even though when Swiss darted his eyes to the handle and could very easily see that yes, the door was indeed locked, no it wasn't. The protest of a squeak from his bed as he stood up to relock the locked door annoyed Swiss. His ears did not lose their sharp sensibilities in glamour. That tiny squeak that nobody else would have noticed was just another nail scraping along the chalkboard. There was no record or music playing like he often flicked on for background noise. It was silent. His shallow breathing was the loudest thing there only taken over by the clicking of the lock and jiggling of the handle. Lock, jiggle, unlock, repeat. Normally this was a simple trio. It had become so ingrained in him that Swiss could do that triple check in the same time somebody might just do it once. The multi ghoul wouldn't even notice he was doing it. He would just keep on his conversation as natural as ever. But a minute just went by, and there he still stood. Lock, jiggle, unlock, repeat. The door had to stay locked. Of everybody in the entire ministry, Swiss knew damn well how easily every single door in this entire estate could be opened. This door needed to stay locked. If you wanted to be quiet and essentially unnoticed, you just picked the lock. Swiss could do that reliably in seconds on any key based lock he could get his itchy hands on. This door needs to stay locked. But if you were ok with a sound alerting everybody to your little hobbies, you could just smash through many of the doors, locked or not. Old locks, aging wood, strong bodies... A perfect combo if you wanted to make a destructive entrance. This door. Lock, jiggle, unlock, repeat. The multi ghoul didn't even notice he was doing it.

Bzzt. That was obviously the tiny buzz of his phone left upon the bed. A normal reaction if a phone went so far as to startle you from its volume or sudden announcement of its presence might be a teeny jump or the turning of your heard in its direction. If it didn't startle you, you would just turn and walk over and peek at what notification you got. Instead... Swiss whipped around with eyes like dinner plates. Who was texting him? Who was looking for him? You only reach out if you're looking for somebody. Oh shit- somebody was looking for him. Fuck! Word got out already. It had to. That bitch in the library went and snitched. Or- Or Secundo said something and just to rub Swiss' nose in the dirt with one last fuck you then she went and snitched. He forgot all about the door. The room was both too loud and too quiet. The almost inaudible hum of the air conditioning was nice. It was a gentle hum that wasn't offensive to those who lived there. It wasn't the sort of air conditioning that blasted noises all day long or in annoying intervals instead of being nice and steady. No, no, no, no, it scratched at the inside of his ears and tore into his eardrums. It screamed down the halls and buzzed in his head. Was it always this hot in here? Swiss was pacing long before he realized he had even walked away from the door he was desperately keeping locked, scratching at his arms and trying to ignore how loud, quiet everything was. No music. No tv. No chatter in the halls. Where... was everyone? There was always somebody in the hallways, right? There was always some distance footstep or conversation, right? Where did they go? Was it always this hot in here?

If Swiss wanted to be safe again, he had to get out. Did he turn off his bedroom lights and shut his door? Who knows. Swiss certainly doesn't. He didn't even know where he was going to go. He just kept walking. One step after the other. On and on until his ears caught a sound or his eyes noticed movement, then he would turn and walk the opposite direction. But when everybody in this massive sprawling hallways of marble and stone is trying to corner you, where do you go? He could hear talking down every other hallway and footsteps between. Nowhere was empty. Nowhere was safe. Trusting anybody he came across to tell him where he might find a spot to be alone was stupidly foolish. They would just direct him directly into the path of the hunters. At the smallest sign of life Swiss turned around so fast that his brain couldn't even register if there was life nearby. Fuck, fuck, fuck, there were less and less places to turn with every passing footstep. All of these halls were huge. All of these rooms were huge. All of these people were looking for him. You can't hide. You know you can't hide. You will be found out just like before. You shouldn't have taken those half measures. Suddenly it was freezing. Not freezing per say but compared to how boiling hot the inside of the ministry was for some reason, it felt freezing. Swiss was outside. This was... This was slightly better... It was darker outside. It wasn't as loud. It wasn't as quiet. It wasn't as scorching hot. And it wasn't coated with a sea of people armed with shovels, ready to dig up the skeletons Swiss thought he had buried decades ago.