Nathan watched as the weirdly calm man paced back and forth. Why was he here? If he wanted to find Yasmine, they needed to work together. He looked around the room waiting for someone to say something. His wrist struggled to separate from the grindy rope that strung them together. His ankles weren't any better. The blood that stained the rope left the man feeling sore.
"Clay!" His voice sounded exhausted. With the feeling of confusion, mixed with the uneasiness that pounced its way into his shoulder. He had every right to be. "Clay, if you want to find Yasmine, we need to hurry." Still he didn't answer. Clayton paced back and forth, looking as if he'd seen the worst thing.
"Ya'know," His voice was deeper than usual. The bass scratched an itch in his brain. But still… it wasn't him. "I didn't know whether to kill you or just injure you badly." His eyes scanned the room before making his way back to Nate. "What do you think?"
The captured man originally thought he was joking. Nathan let out a small snicker before seeing the man's unchanged expression. Suddenly, he watched as Clayton held out his hand for something so sinister to appear in his vision.
A shard.
"While the last man was taller than this one, he was getting…too rotten." The person that looked like Clay, slowly dragged the sharpened weapon across Nathan's face. Leaving a light, yet noticeable scar. The last man? What was he talking about? He moved his face over so as to not receive any more injuries.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. Don't want to either." He tried to keep the man busy as he fiddled with the rope. Still, a part of him did wonder if this was the same person he arrived here with. He spoke differently, but his hair was the same. His eyes were different, but the feeling of his hand stayed constant. "But if you want to find Yas-"
"I don't want to find her." He grabbed the root of Nathan's hair to get a good look at his face. "She's dead. Nate. Been dead." His eyes scanned over him before he shoved his hand into the ground. Dammit. If he could just sever this tie, he could maybe get an idea of how to get out of here. As he searched around, he noticed several cleaning supplies. Things from pine-sol to Dolly May homemade bleach. Was he in a storage closet? Racks of brooms, mops, and other things aligned themselves along them. There had to be something. Something to defend himself.
"If you're thinking something stupid, stop." Clay's voice echoed as he had his back turned. His right hand laid on his waist as he twirled the dagger with the other. "You'll only make things worse." Although Nathan couldn't see him, he heard the smile in his voice.
Cocky bastard.
He watched as the thing near him slowly began to pace once more. What is wrong with him? Was he confused? A small part of him smiled at the fact that he was taking forever. He had no idea why, but the timing of everything seemed…off. With his back still facing him, Nathan slowly found his fingers slowly making their way from the tight rope.
As he moved, he despised the burning sensation making their presence on his skin. He could feel the deep line of redness that stained its way into his body. Still, he had to bring himself to stop as his enemy started to speak once more.
"Dammit," Clayton's look alike whined as he held the shard in the air. "I hate doing this." He started to hold on to his shoulder as he spoke. Hate doing what? And why did he act so…childish? Nathan's hands slowly started to reach forward to help his legs out. Still making sure the person in front of him didn't start feeling murdery again.
But it didn't work.
Nathan's eyes felt like they were gonna bulge out of his head. His eyes and skin stung as he started to slowly crawl towards the side. As he took deep breaths, he couldn't help but notice the smell of bleach flooding his nostrils.
"Serves ya right, huh? I told you," The sound of footsteps made their way ever so slowly over to the man. "You're not leaving me." He couldn't see, but the feeling of a hand being placed in his shoulders caused shiver to fowl down his spine. "So stop trying." Nathan raised his hand to dismiss the man, but it was futile compared to the feeling of him being pushed into the hall where he once tried to escape to. With the feeling of blood in his eyes and shoulder, he couldn't deal with anything anymore. He had to leave, or there would soon be nothing of him to save.
The sound of whistling soon followed after the sound of Nathan's cries of pain. He was enjoying this, wasn't he. He was taking pleasure in injuring him in every single way possible. As he tried to stand up, he couldn't help but to feel the wind surrounding him become tighter. What was happening? And why now? Not wanting to find out, he starts to move, keeping his finger on the wall ever so slightly. How did life come to this? He went from sitting in his house, listening to info about a stupid assignment, to stumbling down a hallway trying to keep a sliver of his life.
The feeling of the air started to lift up after he began to move further and further away. But still he couldn't open his eyes to see. As the burning still satiated itself, he started to feel stepping coming his way.
"Who's there?" His words fumbled against each other as he spoke. But they didn't answer. The steps continued to move closer and closer, making the air feel just as heavy as before. It wasn't long before the feeling of another hand wrapped around his body.
"Nathan?"