Chapter Ten
When Abel's clouded green eyes opened, all he saw above him was dark grey concrete. This was strange, but in his disoriented state, he couldn't process why. His head hurt terribly, and his throat felt sore and raw; it was painful to make a small noise as he forced himself to sit up. The ground beneath him looked just like the ceiling, and had laying on it had made his body sore. There wasn't much else in the room; a small window in the corner, and a bare wooden table with a single chair. Not even a bed was present. The room reminded Abel of a jail cell, but it was much too large and barren for that to be the case.
Staggering as he tried to stand, he almost fell, but held out a hand to catch himself before he crashed into the wall. Slowly, he made his way over to the chair, letting out a breath of effort as he sat. It was uncomfortable, but it was better than sitting on the hard concrete floor. Glancing at the watch on his wrist, he saw that it was roughly either 3AM or PM; from the small light that was peeking in through the small window, he supposed it must have been the afternoon. In the dull gray cell, it was hard to imagine that just outside was a bright spring day.
After judging his surroundings, he moved on to the next problem—why was he there? Abel's head was slowly clearing, his thoughts less foggy. He struggled to remember the events of the night before—nothing strange there, he thought. Whatever happened to him must have taken place that morning, when he was outside. After focusing on that thought for a moment, he faintly remembered taking his usual morning walk, and having an extremely unusual experience.
He hadn't been bound or gagged; after such an incident, he found himself rather confused at having full control of his body. The attack had probably been provoked, rather than planned, and he figured that he'd been thrown into this room at the last minute for lack of a better place. After remembering Cain's confession in the hospital, Abel knew that there could be only one person who would do such a thing to him. The motive was unknown to him, but at the moment, his main priority was finding a way out. He had the advantage in the fact that the one who had attacked him didn't think him as much of a threat. Abel had been idly doing nothing for too long; it was time to take matters into his own hands.
Just as he had been looking around the barren room for something to break the door with, or perhaps something that could be used to pick the lock, he heard footsteps approaching. A small gasp was the only noise that escaped him before he silenced himself; this was his chance!
The green-haired man pressed his back against the wall just next to the door. It opened slowly with a loud creaking noise, and a skinny stranger walked in, not even glancing to the side before entering the middle of the room. He looked around in confusion for a moment, no doubt wondering where his captive had gone, and that's when Abel made his move. Quickly, he slid through the open doorway, reaching to grab the handle of the door and slam it shut; with that smooth motion, the captor had become the captive. The man pounded on the heavy door, demanding to be let out. Abel had no intention of waiting around until his captor remembered that he had keys.
Abel's plan had relied on there only being one man, and it seemed as though luck was not with him. As soon as he turned, he was faced with another stranger; this one was more heavyset than the first, and larger than Abel. Anger was clear on his face, and he lashed out, intending to connect his fist with whatever part of Abel's body he could hit. The green-haired man swiftly dodged, and the stranger staggered forward, off balance; clearly, he was used to his opponents being slow and stocky.
Abel could have won that fight, but he didn't have time to. He sprinted down the long hallway, looking for any kind of exit. If he could make it outside, he would be safe; he could outrun any of these bulky men. The only problem was that he had no idea where he was, or where to go if he could even make it outside.
Even with those thoughts in mind, he continued to run, stopping only when he was gasping for air, and far enough away from the last stranger to deem himself safe. After a few moments he caught his breath, and almost started to sprint again, but was stopped by an echoed voice that reached his ears from around the corner. Abel straightened up and pressed his back against the wall, holding his breath. Once whoever was around the corner reached the end of the hallway, they had two ways to go; the way Abel was hiding, and another long, empty hallway. The green-haired man silently prayed, but his heart dropped in his stomach as he realized he was hearing more than one set of footsteps.
As he predicted, the two muscular strangers turned his way. Curse his luck! One of them yelled in surprise, and the other reached out to grab Abel; he swiftly ducked under the man's outstretched arms, not waiting around to fight. He took off running again, weaving through the maze-like halls, frustratingly wondering how large the building was; it was just his luck that he hadn't run into any exits. The yelling behind him faded, and his attackers had either chosen not to pursue him or lost him in the halls; he didn't care which, he was only relieved they weren't right behind him.
Their voices had brought another concern to Abel's mind, however; he'd been seen by a multitude of people now, and it was only a matter of time before they starting coming in larger and larger groups. He couldn't possibly outrun them all, especially if they boxed him in in this foreign building. He'd have to take on a different method if he hoped to get out of here alive.
His footsteps were much quieter as he slightly crouched, staying close to the wall. It was dark in the halls, the walls matching the same concrete look of the room that he had been held in. He used this to his advantage, staying in the shadows. He snuck through the halls like a panther stalking its prey, moving swiftly and silently to avoid any more confrontations.
He couldn't see very far down the hallway, and wondered how these people could possibly be so comfortable walking around in the dim and nearly nonexistent light. Hearing footsteps again, Abel stopped short, pressing his back against the wall of the hallway as if it would hide him.
The approaching shadow belonged to a monster of a man, and he walked with an arrogant swagger that made Abel's stomach drop. The man was huge; if he was forced to fight the large man, he'd have to be careful to keep those large fists from crushing him. The two men behind him—neither were nearly as large—followed behind the first like dogs would follow their master.
In the empty stretch of hall, Abel had nowhere to hide. His gaze locked with the stranger's unforgiving beady eyes, and never in all his life had he felt such fear. With as large as he was, Abel had underestimated his speed, and he yelled in shock as the attacker lunged forward and seized his arm in a tight grip.
"Let go of me!" Abel's demanding tone was as useless as his attempts to wrench free. He could tell from the rough hands that this was probably the same person who grabbed him the first time; if that were the case, fighting would be in vain.
The stranger seized Abel's other arm, violently yanking it behind the green-haired man's back. Abel cried out in pain as he felt tightness in the muscle, and then grunted as his chest was slammed into the hard concrete wall, the side of his face pressed against the cold surface as he was held there.
"Where do you think you're going, pretty boy?" The low hiss was right next to his ear, and Abel felt a shiver run down his spine. Still, he defiantly tried to fight back, throwing his weight backwards, but the heavy pressure holding him against the wall didn't relent.
Abel struggled for another moment before he was yanked backwards, his green eyes flying open in surprise. The freedom only lasted a moment before he met face-first with the wall again; this time his head didn't avoid contact, and stars danced in front of his eyes as his knees went weak.
Abel's eyes fluttered open again, and he was once again staring at a concrete floor. He groaned, sitting up, blinking himself awake. "Again…?" He grumbled to himself. It wasn't until he reached to rub his aching temple that he realized his hands were bound.
He looked down at his wrists dumbly for a moment before he processed the fact that they were tied together with a thick rope. It was then that he raised his head, looking around at his surroundings, his eyes narrowing in confusion. This room, if it could be called that, was surrounded by half-built concrete walls. Pieces of scrap metal were everywhere, construction materials from a building that had never progressed past the outer shell. Piles of junk blocked his view of parts of the area, miscellaneous parts of wiring and metal plates scattered among cracked and crumbled cement.
It was hard to tell what was what among the stacks of materials, but what mattered to Abel was what—or rather, who—he couldn't see. There was no sign of the black-haired stranger who had attacked him; by now, he'd figured out that the beast must have been Nico, the man Cain had talked about.
For now, it seemed Abel was alone. He struggled against the rope for a minute, but the knot was tight and wouldn't budge; all he was doing was making his wrists raw. He glanced around for something he could use to free himself, and spotted a sharp piece of metal sticking out of the junk pile to his left. Leaning over, he aligned the point of the metal with the center of his wrists, slowly and carefully moving up and down to rub the point of the scrap against the fiber. He could feel it weakening, and it only took another minute for the rope to snap completely.
Abel started to stand up slowly, rubbing his sore wrists. Glancing over the top of a scrap pile, he gasped softly, and then dropped back down to the ground. He dared to glance around the pile, taking another look; just past the stack of materials was Nico, sitting on a crate. He wasn't facing Abel, and his head was down as if he was sleeping. Abel bit down on his lip in confliction. If Nico was asleep, he could get out of here within minutes. If he wasn't… Abel didn't want to think of the possibilities.
Peeking from behind the pile, Abel realized that making a run for it wasn't a risk he could take as he eyed the loosely-held object in the raven-haired man's hands. Abel wasn't an expert on guns, but he could recognize one when he saw it. Swallowing hard, thinking about his options, his heart sunk when he realized he didn't exactly have any.
Anything was better than waiting; any minute now, he was sure Nico would find him awake, and then… what? Abel didn't know what he expected. It finally dawned on him; Nico wasn't exactly interested in him at all. He was just a third party, a medium between his lover and his enemy.
More than that, though, he was being used as bait.
No doubt that Cain would come looking for him, running into the mess of metal and crumbled concrete. The gun Nico was holding wasn't for him; it was for Cain. This infuriated Abel, and he clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay silent. They'd been so happy, Cain had moved on, but the one tie he couldn't sever kept pulling him back into the past and ruining him. And over what? The shell of a gun, a useless memento? It didn't make sense to Abel.
He shook his head, clearing it. It didn't matter if it made sense to him or not; he had to do something, and he was running out of time. He glanced around for anything he could use, and his gaze settled back on the same sharp piece of metal he'd cut the rope on. Carefully, he tried to pull the piece out from the stack it rested in; it was shorter than he expected, and came out easily. If he held the opposite end carefully enough, he could use it as a knife—a small, crude knife, but it was better than nothing.
Abel held the weapon close to his chest, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself and keep his hands from shaking. When he peeked around from his cover again, Nico hadn't moved, still sitting with his neck bent and head down. Abel's forest green eyes narrowed; if he could get close enough, he could take advantage of Nico's exposed neck. With such a small weapon it probably wouldn't prove to be fatal, but it might buy him enough time to make a break for it.
With incredible stealth, Abel moved as quietly as a panther; if he waited any longer, he might lose his chance. He carefully avoided the giant metal plates and sharp shards, keeping silent as he snuck up behind the sleeping giant. If his heartbeat was as loud as it was in his head, he surely would have been caught.
After what felt like a lifetime, Abel was only inches away from Nico's massive form. He raised the hand that held the knife, his eyes locked on his target, but his hand never made it down to his target. With incredible speed, Nico's slumped body turned, and he seized Abel's wrist in a grip so tight that he dropped the knife in pain. Shocked by Nico's quick movements, Abel's stomach twisted as he saw the knowing sneer spreading below the other man's hooked nose. Nico had been planning on Abel making such a move. He'd never had a chance.
Abel yelled for the raven-haired man to release him, as if his words would have any impact. His attacker did no such thing; instead of releasing him, Nico stood, towering over him both in height and build. He let go of Abel's arm at the same time he grabbed the green-haired man's neck in a tight chokehold, his meaty elbow and forearm squeezing his captive's throat as he held the other close and rendering him immobile.
"Good timing, pretty boy." The low, gravelly voice was much too close for comfort. Abel didn't understand, but he was too scared to be confused at his attacker's meaning; he defiantly continued to try and pull away, writhing in Nico's unforgiving grasp. This struggling stopped, however, as he felt something cold press against his skin. Glancing down, he suddenly remembered the item his attacker had been holding earlier; a small, deadly weapon, and now the barrel of it was shoved into his side.
"Let him go!" The addition of a third voice came as a sudden surprise to him, and Abel's scared expression turned into surprise as he saw Cain sprinting across the area towards him, weaving his way through the piles of metal and shrapnel that littered the area. He finally realized what Nico had meant by his timing, and his forest green eyes widened.
Abel wanted to yell, to cry out to Cain and warn him, but the arm around his throat was making it hard to breath, much less speak. All he could do was watch as Nico raised the gun, aimed at Cain, and fired.