Waking the Monster
Reno just watched in silence as Vincent walked away, not putting up a fight for some reason. Being contrary was something he excelled at, so it was a little odd whenever he didn't open his mouth and instead just allowed the other to leave.
It was no surprise that he was left to his own devices, though, probably one reason he wasn't putting up a fight. It was no secret that he was extremely skilled, and so was Vincent, in the art of self-defense, so it wasn't as though he needed to be protected. Julian, on the other hand... well, he didn't seem to be a very combative guy, at least.
After the pair disappeared behind the double doors, Reno noticed a brown door that nobody had mentioned. Maybe they didn't see it? It would have been a little hard to see at the angle that Vincent had been standing at.
A few twists of the knob revealed that it was locked. Useless. Splitting up was the better idea, even to him, so he did just as he was ordered and rather than follow Vincent and the horse, he made his way into and through the blue door to the right of the R.P.D.'s entrance.
The first thing he noticed... the smell of death. It wasn't just ordinary death, though. It was the smell of rotting corpses that had probably been in such a state for at least a good little while. It made him want to gag, but he swallowed the feeling and pressed on.
Squish. Squish. Squish.
The sound of footsteps in blood was never a pleasant one, but this was... it seemed much worse than usual. It sounded... odd, to say the least, but he couldn't exactly pinpoint why.
All thoughts of the bloody, smelly room all but vanished when the redhead saw a few humanoid figures lying on the floor. A short sprint soon found him in the midst of what appeared to have been a violent massacre, bodies strewn out all over the place.
There was plenty of blood, and plenty of bullet holes in some of the bodies, but that barely phased him. He'd seen much worse, and while it was somewhat disconcerting, if only for the fact that there had been a slaughter in a place unfamiliar to him, the thing he was more concerned about for the time being was what appeared to be the glinting, shiny metal of a gun under the hand of the largest body.
The Turk wasted no time in kneeling next to the 'body' and not-so-gingerly removing the hand that was about twice the size of his own from the weapon in order to take it for himself.
"Jackpot," he said, simply, but not quietly.
