This is awkward.
Sorry for just disappearing for two weeks! I went to Spain, and I was kicking myself over there for not posting a chapter or even a note explaining. From this day on Im going to be a LOT more regular, because literally I have a free summer and then a free year :L
Please, please, please review! :D Im such a moaner, but their just so nice x)
I hope I havent lost any of my (few) readers, because literally Im counting on you guys so much! Thank you! xx
At around 3 in the morning, when Nathan was fast asleep enjoying his dreams, a large crowd of mechanically armed men burst through the door. He was frightened awake, calling out only for a moment when he was knocked out cold by a plank of titanium. When he awoke, he found that his large head trap, with the inner spikes curving into his gums, was re attached to his head, and he was fully strapped into the metal chair.
He couldn't scream, as he could barely get enough air through the thin grate at the front of the mask. He shook his head, but it only caused a large crack in his neck to echo out into the empty, dead room. He couldn't move any part of himself except his head, his toes too numb and cold to wriggle. He tried to keep himself from hyperventilating, but the ominous feeling was dawning on him.
It was starting soon.
It was the only reason he was placed in this large trap, usually the night before the games started. He desperately shook his head but it only caused him to gasp in pain and suck any oxygen that was trapped in his mask into his lungs. He knew he would have to calm down, or suffocate.
Tears started rolling down his cheeks, although he tried to stop them, he had become such a wimp lately. He was tired of crying, he hardly had enough water to produce the salty drops. But, he was so frightened, this was usually the only time he had time to think, or even the ability to think before he was standing in front of thousands, broadcasted to million, covered in blood, tens of broken bodies surrounding him.
Bodies, corpses…
He didn't mean to kill them… he just lost control. Maybe it was the entrapment the night before, but they always used some sort of bait to lure him into rage filled insanity. Nathan already knew that this time, because it had been 9 years, they were going to destroy something special. A picture, his photo…
And even though he promised to Redmond he would pretend it would enrage him, Nathan already knew it would without any promises. Enough to send him over the edge before being unleashed into the ring…
Nathan's mouth ached as he gasped in pain, the arches of steel into his mouth almost throbbing. He moaned, long and deep, as he felt his heart starting to race. His breaths became heavier, more animal like. Before long, Nathan couldn't think, he could only smell the blood that was splattered everywhere, and feel the twitch of his fingers wanting to rip something apart.
But Nathan was still semi-conscious. He was aware of his actions.
So the unit needed something that really made him mad to stop the rational thought.
Last time, roughly 9 years ago, they had found a woman, devastatingly similar to his mother. They had brought her in, screaming with fright. She looked at him with such fear and hate that it broke Nathan's heart. The fury pumping through his veins came on so suddenly that he thought it was really his mother.
Then they snapped her neck.
And then the next thing he knew, he was standing in broad daylight, hundreds of cameras flashing in his face, a mutilated arm in his hand and thousands of shocked repulsed and disgusted faces staring at him.
'No… no, it's not me, I swear' He tried to start, but his stomach churned and he leaned over and threw up, his own disgust at himself far greater than the crowds. The sunroof over the stadium where he stood closed over, blocking off the civilians faces, and the taste of freedom he was too weak to reach.
Redmond walked briskly down the corridor, talking sharply into a walkie-talkie. Army talk fluttered between the two mouths pressed against the devices like it was an art. Redmond switched off the object before turning the corner and breaking into a half run. He knew that the poison was pumping through Nathan's veins at that minute. The unit had kept a secret from Nathan for almost 500 years, a feat proved almost impossible. Once thrust into the metal mask, chemicals started dripping through the metal arches into his gums at an alarming rate. The poison had one intention, and one intention only. To send Nathan into a state known as the 'frenzy' state…
The frenzy state sent Nathan over the edge, drove him up the wall, made him lose his mind for a temporary time. It was developed when Nathan refused to participate in the games when they were first established in 2547. It was a contest of strength, and beating Nathan was the main prize.
In around 500 years, no one had, but people still tried, whether forced or voluntary. It made Redmond sick thinking about it. It was the most famous game around the world, a very long anticipated event, starting only when Nathan was alive. If he was alive, it went on annually. Millions tuned in. And only Redmond could see how wrong the act was, as he was the only one who knew the Irish boy.
The frenzied state ended when all contestants who had survived to the final stage were dead. Nathan killed them in an excruciating and violent manner, his eyes blanked over, as empty as his head. When much blood had been spilled, well, Nathan 'woke up', left to deal with the subsequent mass murder he had caused. After all these years, he claims ghosts haunt him, and he completely blames himself for losing control.
And Redmond didn't have the heart or guts to tell him he was wrong.
Redmond crept into the room, and he could see Nathan was twitching violently under his restraints and foaming at the mouth. Guttural growls slipped between the mask grill. Redmond kept away from him, knowing no reason would make the boy see rationally.
'Hey, … eh… cunt…face. Want this?' Redmond stuttered, unable to think of any useful taunts. If he messed this up he was finished with. He held up the photo. Nathan vibrated angrily his eyes narrow slits. Redmond yanked a lighter out from his pockets and quickly set the paper aflame. Nathan screamed out angrily, pulling and yanking at the chair. Suddenly he heard a groan. A metallic groan, before a sound of snapping…
'Impossible' Redmond whispered; as the boy pulled harder at the chair, metal crippling under his fingertips. Redmond quickly legged it out the door, gasping just as Nathan pulled his arm free.
'Delta 1, we have a 2998 quarter you hear? Ready the exit plan now, I repeat, we have no more time' He said anxiously, before ducking out of the way of the long dark corridor. He watched from the sidelines as a large metal door cascaded down in front of him and then he just listened.
He head Nathan break free and inhumanely shout out, breaking down the door separating him from the long corridor. Redmond held his breath behind the door, knowing he couldn't run now without Nathan hearing him and being distracted, possibly breaking down the door separating them both and killing him.
He heard Nathan collapse on all fours and sprint down the corridor. He heard him pass, before the loud sounds of his limbs slapping against the metal stopped. And he retreated, right where Redmond stood, a metre of metal away. There was deadly silence, as Redmond felt himself go blue from holding his breath.
Nathan eventually moved onwards and he finally heard him breaking into the arena area. He heard a huge wave of booing and catcalls and screaming before the metal door went down and there was nothing.
Let the fucking games begin, Redmond thought, knowing it would all be over soon. Well… for him anyway, but he wasn't sure how long it would last for Nate.
He hoped not forever.
He woke up in the ring, covered in vomit, fluids thrown by the crowd but mainly and thoroughly coated with blood. He heard the crying and sobbing and hissing the crowd was still making even though the sunroof was fully sealed over the arena, leaving him in almost total darkness and depression. He dropped the man with the broken spine from his hands and fell to his hunches, rocking back and forth, murmuring softly. He ran his blood soaked hand through his hair, the curly strands matting together.
The man in front of him was similar to many men who came here. They set up camp, eager to go out and prove that they could beat Nathan when in reality they all knew they couldn't. Unbeknownst to Nathan, his frenzy state compiled with his inhuman strength, a mere human could never beat his heightened abilities.
Sure, the human slumped in front of him had been altered to some degree, bulked up beyond recognition (Nathan was lucky enough to have the exact same appearance as he had back in 2009 while most others were badly affected by the enhancing drugs physically), but they were only taking the strength/sense enhancing drugs that didn't kill Nathan. And to everyone's knowledge, it's the ones that kill, that change him the most.
Nathan was too empty to cry, he had lost all his tears before.
He was so sick of being sad, he didn't want to be sad anymore. Back a long time ago when he wasn't sad… well he couldn't really remember the feeling. He stared at his hands, seeing the blood caked under his fingernails. After glancing around, he realised around twenty were dead. They all had had weapons, but he could see the splinters of gun and bombs that had no effect littering the arena.
He was shaking so much that his vision started to become blurry. He felt a hand on his back, and he willed himself not to freak out. Men were starting to pile into the arena, some family, some rubbish cleaners or something. The wailing got louder, and the looks of hate got stronger. The fear was heavy and thick in the air like a hot humid day.
Redmond didn't realise how light the Irish boy was until Redmond hooked his arm under Nathan's knees, cradling his upper body closer. Nathan didn't resist and soon Redmond was standing, the smaller boy in his arms. He gulped, and Nathan was white faced and staring. He didn't want to be teased later for this so he quickly made his way down the dented corridor. Upon reaching Nathan's cell, he laid the boy in the metal chair. He had developed the hiccups.
Redmond tried to make a big deal of the hiccups, trying to scare him, bumping him on the back and making him drink his only glass of water from the wrong side. Nathan's eyes stayed glazed over, and his movements were slow and monotonous. He appreciated Redmond's diversion tactics, but his stomach was hurtling around too much.
He promptly threw up, turning to the side and Redmond flinched. His shoulders then slumped and he turned Nathan's face towards him, using a part of his t-shirt to wipe his mouth.
'Why are you nice now' Nathan said sluggishly, his head rolling to the side, his whisper of a question barely heard.
'Your not the only one who gets judged on appearances' Redmond replied back, simply but not tartly. Redmond didn't help when Nathan's eyes rolled back into his head but he ruffled his sticky hair before glancing at the CCTV camera planted in the corner.
Wow, that was so crap just reading over it now. One of the worst chapters ever
If your going... Huh?, join the club, but Im too lazy to fix it now
I swear this story gets alot better, so please send reviews, you've all been such stars :D
Next chapter is a flashback chapter, more lighthearted. Its nice to alternate between shite fluff and depressing angst.
Hapyy times :D xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx