Chapter 4
His feet flew down the stairwell, leaping from step to step as if he did this everyday. Panic streamed through his veins, screaming at his idiocy. A thin hand held onto the brim of his helmet as it tried to fly away. Stolen boots clanked down the ridiculously wide staircase, barely touching down before they left the stairs once again. Numbers shouted in his head as he passed the stair. Twenty, twenty one, twenty two... The explosive screams bursting through his panic mixed with the eery thwacks of a nearly uncontrolled descent.
The giant ears heard something else, but really nothing else mattered in that minute. The quick descent that needed to speed up in the next two seconds. The nearing sound of neighing and hooves digging into a hard surface.
But then the minute passed, and one other thing started to matter.
More specifically, the tall red thing that he didn't want to pay attention to, which was right in front of him. Merlin's heels tried to dig into the slippery surface, only to start to topple their owner. Thirty three, thirty four, thirty five... The thin hand stretched to clasp the nearby railing, but it was already too late. No time! No time! His brain cried, shouting for the other body parts to hurry and decipher the message. So like the idiots they are, the legs pushed faster, trying to cut the time down. Cool metal bit into his palm as he started to drag himself back. The bottom half of him however was embodying a complete moron today however, and it went flying bottom first onto the stairs.
A little cry echoed out of his mouth as the red cape came closer. Or was he getting closer? Tick, tick, tick, tick. No time! No time! The soles of the travel worn boots slammed into person standing aimlessly in front of him, sending him tumbling down before Merlin. Pain exploded at the back of his head, and he dazedly realized that he was smashing his head off of the metal thingy. What was it called again? Merlin pinched his eyes shut, blocking out the rushing images of colorless walls. A moment of weightlessness followed by a long moment of sliding. A sudden stop. An all too familiar metallic clang. Shock waves raced up his legs.
Ladies and gentlemen we have reached our destination.
Breath burst into his lungs as the adrenaline started to subside, and his eyes popped out again, staring dazedly at the heavy duty door that he had collapsed onto. Eventually, he propped himself up on the stinging palms that had been so helpful earlier, yanking himself into a sitting position.
Merlin's breaths came in gasps the shook down the rest of his body.
Unfortunately the other guy's did not.
The youngest Emrys barely realized the hand clasping onto the back of his collar, though the sudden weightlessness under his was slightly disconcerting. All he could really tell was that he had been facing a door, and then he was facing a blonde man that looked like he wanted to kill him.
Excellent deduction Sherlock. Of course he wants to kill you, he probably will in a few days.
White noise showered his eardrums, blurring whatever made the vain attempt to enter his jumbled brain. Words only started to form again about ten minutes into the blonde's heated speech, which was probably very well done.
"And you moron started flying down the stairs like a bat out of 12 and just plow me over. Right in the middle of the flipping staircase! Why would you not stop? Are you dim in the head? Never mind don't answer that, the answer is standing right in front of me."
Had his eyes been functioning with his brain, he would have rolled his eyes.
"Twelve doesn't have bats," Merlin croaked out, trying to orient how awful his snappy comebacks were after a few years. They still needed some work.
Nose crinkling. Grip tightening. Arm extending. Images flying. Air rushing.
Sudden stop. Loud crack. Liquidity head stuff. Falling grippy appendage.
Nothing. Darkness. Noise. Noise?
