Nico | Stryker Plot #3| Mid-Afternoon
Feb. 19th, 2015 04:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainNico wakes up on his own. Then he decides to go for ADHD Poster Child of the Year by provoking his captors.
Disclaimer: Contains some vivid imagery and references to physical/sexual abuse.
Nico woke up feeling like he was death warmed over. Which, you know, wasn't that far from the truth really. He sluggishly turned from his back onto his side on the concrete ground and fought the urge to throw up.
He fought the urge really, really hard.
Okay, so, not dead. What had happened? Oh. Oh shit. Oh fuckity shit.
Even though it was more painful that anything ever had been in his life before (physically), Nico forced himself to sit up. That lost his battle to not throw up, because fuuuuuuck did that hurt. Covered in his own throw up (was that blood? That was bad, right?), Nico took account of his injuries. His head was blurry, his knees were cut up, his chest and stomach felt like he got hit by a baseball bat...but other than that he was mostly okay.
But just like that, he felt like he got hit by another bat. Shit, where was Yana? "Illyana?" Nico called out gruffly, wincing when his chest decided that breathing was not an okay activity.
Nico forced himself to his feet and stumbled to the door, grabbing hold of the wall. He checked the knob but, yep, locked. "Yana?!" Nico tried again, yelling this time. No response.
Well, that either meant she couldn't hear him because she was far away, or dead. Nico liked to think he'd know if she were dead, though.
Apparently Nico's yelling had caught someone's attention though since he could hear footsteps coming.
"Whatdya mean, you didn't bind his hands or gag him?" Walter demanded of his grandson as they made their way down the corridor. Damn it, he could hear the kid yelling from here, calling out some word he didn't recognize but which probably didn't mean anything good. "I told you to do both. Hell, Anne followed directions better.
"He was out cold," Michael grumbled. "Shouldn't have been awake for hours yet, if he woke up at all. I figured on getting it done - just hadn't done it yet."
"Boy, that's no harmless brat - that's a demon, pure and simple. You can't figure it's gonna go down like a deer and stay down."
"But-"
"Hush now." Walter stopped at the door, holding up one hand to silence Michael's complaints while he unlocked the cell his idiot grandson had thrown the demon into and waited for the boy to raise the tranq gun he was carrying to cover their entrance. Fingers folding down one by one, he counted to three, then slammed the door open, hoping the demon spawn would be waiting on the other side of the door. A pair of the brethren stood guard further down the corridor, similarly armed, so even if the thing managed to get past them, he wouldn't get far.
Okay, so standing by the door had been a Bad Decision. Nico fell to the ground, gasping for air when the door slammed open. Damn. He needed to get better at making decisions.
Maybe if he lived through this he'd look into that.
Walter gestured Michael inside, and his grandson slipped in through the opening, immediately maneuvering to cover the demon with his weapon. He followed in after, and scowled down at the figure on the floor.
"You keep your mouth shut, boy - you'll not be calling down your master's wrath on good, God fearing folk. I won't have it, you hear me?"
Nico blinked because...what the fuck? And because he, per usual, ignored the instructions, he couldn't help but asked, "Where's the girl you took?"
A slow smile spread over Michael's face, one that was almost enough to give Walter pause. It was the Lord's work they were doing, but that didn't mean they should be finding joy in it. "Why, 's she yours?" his grandson asked. "Wasn't much good, if so. I'd expected more of demon spawn, what with all the talk about succubi."
It was stupid, and impulsive, so obviously Nico did it. Nico lunged at the guy's knees, hoping to at least make a dent in him before the guy used that weapon on him. "Don't fucking talk about her like that!"
Before Walter could protest (and he wasn't altogether sure he would have, though he intended to have a word in private with his grandson later), Michael jumped backwards, then swung his gun sideways into the boy's head, slamming him hard. "You don't tell me how to talk, demon-spawn," he demanded. "I'll-"
"Enough," Walter said, breaking off Michael's tirade. No point in baiting demons against all sense, especially since they'd seen what this one could do. He glowered down at the boy on the floor. "The dead are the province of the Lord, and we bore witness to you ripping them from their eternal rest to turn them against their loved ones. You'll meet the same fate as the girl soon enough." He gestured to Michael to hand over his gun. "Cuff him. Would've served you right if he'd bowled you over."
Nico had a really killer headache, like worse than when Jake and his friend beat up him and Yana. Was this a concussion? Nico was sleepy.
Gotta stay awake. Gotta find Yana. Gotta live. Nico repeated over and over in his mind, feeling metal cuffs encircle his wrists and binds criss-cross his ankles.
With a concentrated effort, Nico turned his head upwards so he could look what appeared to be the lead one in the eyes. "The dead are my province asshole," Nico spat, because he had about as much common sense as a goldfish.
Walter's eyes narrowed and his jaw set. "The devil has no power here," he said, as much to remind himself as the demon before him. He looked over at Michael, and said, "I'll be outside." The mercy of the Lord wasn't for such as these, he reminded himself as he heard the first of the blows land, and closed the door behind him. Michael might be enjoying it overmuch, but he was doing the Lord's work nonetheless.
Disclaimer: Contains some vivid imagery and references to physical/sexual abuse.
Nico woke up feeling like he was death warmed over. Which, you know, wasn't that far from the truth really. He sluggishly turned from his back onto his side on the concrete ground and fought the urge to throw up.
He fought the urge really, really hard.
Okay, so, not dead. What had happened? Oh. Oh shit. Oh fuckity shit.
Even though it was more painful that anything ever had been in his life before (physically), Nico forced himself to sit up. That lost his battle to not throw up, because fuuuuuuck did that hurt. Covered in his own throw up (was that blood? That was bad, right?), Nico took account of his injuries. His head was blurry, his knees were cut up, his chest and stomach felt like he got hit by a baseball bat...but other than that he was mostly okay.
But just like that, he felt like he got hit by another bat. Shit, where was Yana? "Illyana?" Nico called out gruffly, wincing when his chest decided that breathing was not an okay activity.
Nico forced himself to his feet and stumbled to the door, grabbing hold of the wall. He checked the knob but, yep, locked. "Yana?!" Nico tried again, yelling this time. No response.
Well, that either meant she couldn't hear him because she was far away, or dead. Nico liked to think he'd know if she were dead, though.
Apparently Nico's yelling had caught someone's attention though since he could hear footsteps coming.
"Whatdya mean, you didn't bind his hands or gag him?" Walter demanded of his grandson as they made their way down the corridor. Damn it, he could hear the kid yelling from here, calling out some word he didn't recognize but which probably didn't mean anything good. "I told you to do both. Hell, Anne followed directions better.
"He was out cold," Michael grumbled. "Shouldn't have been awake for hours yet, if he woke up at all. I figured on getting it done - just hadn't done it yet."
"Boy, that's no harmless brat - that's a demon, pure and simple. You can't figure it's gonna go down like a deer and stay down."
"But-"
"Hush now." Walter stopped at the door, holding up one hand to silence Michael's complaints while he unlocked the cell his idiot grandson had thrown the demon into and waited for the boy to raise the tranq gun he was carrying to cover their entrance. Fingers folding down one by one, he counted to three, then slammed the door open, hoping the demon spawn would be waiting on the other side of the door. A pair of the brethren stood guard further down the corridor, similarly armed, so even if the thing managed to get past them, he wouldn't get far.
Okay, so standing by the door had been a Bad Decision. Nico fell to the ground, gasping for air when the door slammed open. Damn. He needed to get better at making decisions.
Maybe if he lived through this he'd look into that.
Walter gestured Michael inside, and his grandson slipped in through the opening, immediately maneuvering to cover the demon with his weapon. He followed in after, and scowled down at the figure on the floor.
"You keep your mouth shut, boy - you'll not be calling down your master's wrath on good, God fearing folk. I won't have it, you hear me?"
Nico blinked because...what the fuck? And because he, per usual, ignored the instructions, he couldn't help but asked, "Where's the girl you took?"
A slow smile spread over Michael's face, one that was almost enough to give Walter pause. It was the Lord's work they were doing, but that didn't mean they should be finding joy in it. "Why, 's she yours?" his grandson asked. "Wasn't much good, if so. I'd expected more of demon spawn, what with all the talk about succubi."
It was stupid, and impulsive, so obviously Nico did it. Nico lunged at the guy's knees, hoping to at least make a dent in him before the guy used that weapon on him. "Don't fucking talk about her like that!"
Before Walter could protest (and he wasn't altogether sure he would have, though he intended to have a word in private with his grandson later), Michael jumped backwards, then swung his gun sideways into the boy's head, slamming him hard. "You don't tell me how to talk, demon-spawn," he demanded. "I'll-"
"Enough," Walter said, breaking off Michael's tirade. No point in baiting demons against all sense, especially since they'd seen what this one could do. He glowered down at the boy on the floor. "The dead are the province of the Lord, and we bore witness to you ripping them from their eternal rest to turn them against their loved ones. You'll meet the same fate as the girl soon enough." He gestured to Michael to hand over his gun. "Cuff him. Would've served you right if he'd bowled you over."
Nico had a really killer headache, like worse than when Jake and his friend beat up him and Yana. Was this a concussion? Nico was sleepy.
Gotta stay awake. Gotta find Yana. Gotta live. Nico repeated over and over in his mind, feeling metal cuffs encircle his wrists and binds criss-cross his ankles.
With a concentrated effort, Nico turned his head upwards so he could look what appeared to be the lead one in the eyes. "The dead are my province asshole," Nico spat, because he had about as much common sense as a goldfish.
Walter's eyes narrowed and his jaw set. "The devil has no power here," he said, as much to remind himself as the demon before him. He looked over at Michael, and said, "I'll be outside." The mercy of the Lord wasn't for such as these, he reminded himself as he heard the first of the blows land, and closed the door behind him. Michael might be enjoying it overmuch, but he was doing the Lord's work nonetheless.
