Intoxicating Fear (II)
A Crude Awakening
Read Part One // Master-list // continued from here
***
A snap of fingers and Kit jolted forward. He blinked, head pounding as if it was filled with an expandable wool that pushed against the edges of his skull every time he took a breath. He blinked again, his brain screaming at him to go back asleep, to stop his consciousness from taking over, to lull him back into the nothingness of before. His cracked his eyelids open despite himself, thankful for the shadowy room with its dim lighting… his memory hazy as he tried to remember how he got here. Wherever here was.
He was standing up, he realised, his arms above his head which was a strange way to sleep and wake up he thought, his thoughts heavy like lead. When he tried to pull his arms down, he heard the snap of chains. Warning bells sounded clear in his mind, setting the expandable wool on fire in his brain, setting all his nerves alight with panic as he tugged them down again with a clink, but they didn’t budge. Tingles that came before pins and needles skittered down his arms like a hundred angry insects. He groaned as he tilted his neck back to look up at his hands, squinting at the dim white light that was somehow too bright for his eyes. Heavy duty metal cuffs encased his wrists, attached to a chain that went all the way to the ceiling.
“Good. Very good, Atlas. So responsive. So suggestible,” a silvery voice purred behind him.
Kit froze for a split second before his reflexes kicked in. He snapped his fingers on instinct reaching for the electricity in the air. The faint light dimmed as familiar blue lightning sparked to life and Kit screamed as his entire body jerked in the chains. His body seized, winding tight as his own electricity turned on him, the bolts of his making attacking the nerves in his body, weaponised against him. Kit clenched his teeth, his jaw snapping up as his body was forced to endure. The chains holding him up rattled as Kit fell like dead weight on his wrists once the currents ran its course through his body.
A couple aftershocks jerked Kit’s muscles. He gasped as he sucked in a second cry of pain at the strain on his shoulders, trying to alleviate it through haggard breaths.
A cool hand rested on the back of his neck. Kit froze, his muscles in his legs riding out random spasms from the aftershock as Kit forced his legs to stand up straight. His feet slipped as he tried to get his balance, accompanied by a sloshing sound. Kit glanced down to see his feet in a basin of water. His boots and socks taken off and his trousers rolled up to the knees. Kit sucked in a breath, panic overwhelming him as he lifted his dead shoulder to his cheek to ensure his mask was still on his face. He almost wanted to cry when he realised it was.
“You’re not as bright as I heard you were, Atlas,” said that horrible voice behind him. Kit’s heart thundered against his chest, as the hand slinked around Kit’s neck to come and stand in front of him.
It was Omen.
It was… it was Omen.
Kit knew it was Omen, obviously, he just didn’t really want to believe it.
That meant that Omen had actually taken Kit against his will. Taken him and made him forget the way to Omen’s fucking dungeon, and Tempest was still at the fairground. And nobody knew where Kit was, least of all himself and fuck!
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
“Hey, Atlas. Calm down,” Omen said, his voice so far away. Kit’s head dipped, gasping on air, choking on it, trying to breathe, but his body wouldn’t let him. Instead, he was panting, chest rising too quickly and falling too shallow for him to take in any oxygen. The wool burning in his brain pressed against his skull as if it was trying to explode out his ears, nose and mouth and he couldn’t breathe.
Fuck.
Not in front of Omen.
He was trapped with Omen.
Tears streamed down his face as the realisation settled loud into Kit’s mind.
No one knew where he was.
No one was coming to find him.
He was chained in front of Omen, his… the—
Two cold hands on his cheeks brought Kit back into the present and he gasped. Wide, cyan eyes went to the villain, recoiling as much as his chains would let him which was barely an inch. Omen’s fingers tightened on Kit’s face.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
Kit gasped, looking into two abyssal eyes, drawn down and down and down into the lightless depths. He wanted to cry as Omen spoke again: “Atlas. Oi, Atlas, Relax.”
Kit’s body obeyed the command. His lungs inflated and forcefully deflated in an even rhythm, forcing Kit to breathe, his muscles unwound from tightness like nuts being loosened from bolts against his will, his mind still screaming at him that this was wrong as his body flooded with the ice coldness that followed Omen’s commands. Kit’s breath didn’t shake, though he felt it should, as he stared at the villain in front of him, another icy sensation flooding his body that Kit knew wasn’t the effects of Omen’s power, but the aftereffects of being in the villain’s presence, fear.
“There we go,” said Omen, grinning, as his thumbs rubbed the tears from Kit’s cheeks. When did he cry? “I knew you were scared of me little hero, but having a panic attack over me? I’m honoured.”
“G-go fuck yourself,” Kit ground out with a shiver. Omen tsked stepping back from Kit, his grin spreading into a horrible smile on his pale red lips. Kit yanked at the chains holding him up and tried to steel his expression into a (hopefully) threatening one. At least when he could breathe properly, he was in a better position to resist, to fight Omen’s will and not to take this lying down.
A panic attack, really Kit? At least that wasn’t the first impression he made on the villain, at least Omen saw Kit’s fight and defiance before he saw him have a minor breakdown. It was a small panic attack, he told himself, just a little one. He ignored the voice in his head that told him it would have been bigger if Omen hadn’t intervened. Nope, Kit avoided that thought, jutting his chin up a little in defiance of his own thoughts that betrayed him.
Omen hummed, a terrible, amused sound that curled Kit’s stomach, tilting his head as he slipped his hands into tailored trouser pockets.
“Hmm, I think you should be nicer to me, Atlas,” Omen said, his smile and happy tone contrasting his words: “If you piss me off, I might just forget to come down here and give you food and water, let you use the bathroom. Keep disrespecting me and I’ll leave you to die in a pool of your own faeces. Understand?”
Kit didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to agree. He didn’t want to do anything other than not be here. Not be standing in front of Omen, the man who ruined his life. Fucking Omen of all people! Forcing his body into a synthetic calm.
Kit licked his lips, asking: “What do you want with me?” He cursed his voice for coming out quiet. Quieter than he’d like to have it be in front of this monster.
Omen’s smile seemed to grow if that was even possible.
“I want to know why you fear me so much,” Omen said, that horrible amusement lacing his curiosity. He didn’t get closer, he gave Kit space, but his eyes. His stare. It felt so invasive.
Too invasive.
“You can just look, can’t you?” Kit snapped, pulling at his chains just to do something. He hated this, standing here and being observed like a prized pig to be slaughtered. Every place Omen’s stare roamed left a trail of invisible cockroaches crawling over Kit’s skin. Omen’s eyes flashed at the emotion, flicking lazily up at the chains then back at Kit.
“You know, Atlas. Taking you was a spur of the moment thing, so I had to prepare all this for you,” Omen said, gesturing to the chains and the water. “To keep you. To hold you. I know Archangel, know how hard he tried to keep you secret from me.”
Kit yanked at his restraints again, a snarl curling his lip back over his teeth. “A secret from you? You think so high of yourself, don’t you Omen? After your last battle everyone thought you retired, so don’t give me this bullshit of you lying in wait to attack the heroes again.”
Kit surprised himself with how angry and threatening he sounded during his little speech, a well of pride bloomed in his chest. Then Omen stepped forward and Kit flinched. He cursed himself for it as Omen let out a dark chuckle.
“I don’t think I’ll get used to that. That raw, primal fear— like I’m the most repulsive person to ever live.”
“You’re a villain,” is all Kit said in reply, cursing the croak in his voice.
Omen cocked an eyebrow. “You flinch at every villain? Then you don’t have the stomach for the job, heroling. Sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Kit’s hands balled into fists above his head as Omen took another step closer. Kit forced himself to stay still.
“What’s with this stupid game of cat and mouse, huh?!” Kit demanded, leaning forward slightly. If Omen wanted to close the gap to intimidate Kit, why shouldn’t he do the same? “You can read minds. Just take all the information you want and leave me alone!”
Omen grinned. His eyes drilling into Kit’s. Kit suddenly became very aware of his body, his blood drumming a death knell in his ears as the villain said nothing. He just stared. That penetrating, skin-crawling stare. Kit felt himself drawn to the depths beneath onyx eyes that seemed bright even in the dimness of the room. His gut twisted with dread as he seemed to be locked into the villain’s eyes, wanting desperately to escape, to look away, but his body wouldn’t obey him.
“Here’s the thing, Atlas. I know you’re new on the hero/villain scene so I’m willing to go easy on you,” said Omen casually, finally breaking the thrall of his stare. He shrugged a shoulder as he walked around Kit’s left, past his line of sight. Kit tried to turn, but his body wouldn’t move far enough, no matter how hard he tried. He let out a huff as he was forced to stare ahead as Omen continued.
“I’ll tell you why I won’t take your source of fear from your beautiful, terrified mind. It’s because—” A hand went to the back of Kit’s neck, fingers lacing through his hair and yanking his head back. He cried out as he found Omen’s cold eyes staring down at him. “—you protest too much. Clearly, that’s part of why I’m so terrifying to you, isn’t it? You want it to be easy like it was with Noble. You want me to twist your mind until you can barely see straight.”
Kit tried to yank his head free but hissed as Omen wrenched him back further. His shoulders screaming at him to stop struggling.
“I’m not going to do that, Atlas. You’re going to tell me why you’re afraid, and I’m going to be there. Watching every micro expression on your face as you do. Maybe there’ll even be some more of your delicious tears…maybe not.”
Omen wrapped a hand around Kit’s throat, grinning as he felt the hero swallow under his palm. He tightened his fingers ever so slightly.
Kit loosed a breath, going impossibly still in his chains. Playing dead. Playing possum, hoping Omen wouldn’t kill him. Not like this. Not like this. And as if on cue, Omen’s fingers tightened until Kit’s common sense was replaced with a wave of sudden, blinding fear. Logic left him in a flood of panic, incapacitating as Omen cut off his air.
He couldn’t breathe.
Oh god… he couldn’t breathe.
No! No, he had to remain calm, the villain didn’t want him dead. He was testing him, but… fuck, Kit couldn’t breathe! No, stay calm.
Omen stared down above him drinking in every pathetic struggle. Kit’s arms flailing in the chains, his feet slipping in the water below, every effort in his body to try and get a sliver of air into his lungs. Darkness encroached on Kit’s vision as he struggled, a vignette of consciousness threatening to take him blissfully into oblivion of sleep.
No! He had to stay awake; he had to remain calm… he had to… he had to breathe!
“Listen to those sounds you make, Atlas,” Omen said, his silvery voice the only solid thing Kit could hold as he desperately thrashed in Omen’s grip. Omen watched, basked, waited until he saw the electric blue flash through Kit’s eyes. He waited a beat longer before seeing Kit’s resolve settle.
Omen let go at the last second.
The exact moment that Kit’s power took over in his panic and his body erupted in crackles of cobalt lightning that coursed through his veins, and he screamed. Every fibre of his being erupted in flames as electricity burned through his nerves, tearing them to shreds and leaving only pain in its wake. His jaw clenched so hard Kit thought his teeth would break from the force; his neck stretched at an awkward angle as he twitched unable to correct it. His muscles riding out the body-locking shocks of his own power, his ability that betrayed his body, his mind going white with static as he spasmed. Black encroached further on his vision as his body seized against his restraints.
A normal person in Kit’s circumstance would be dead by now. In a basin of water, his wrists trapped in metal above him… it turned his body into a perfect conductor. Omen may as well have put Kit in an electric chair.
He should be dead, but his ability, stemmed from a sensitivity to electric currents rippling through the air, gave him a robustness to electricity. He thought that meant he could withstand electric currents passing through his body easily.
That was until now.
Until Omen used Tempest against him.
Until he nearly burnt himself unconscious not a few seconds ago.
He should be dead. That’s the first thought that cut through the fog following his currents leaving him limp.
Now, he just hung lifeless in his chains. His feet slipped and so his toes were the only part of him on the floor; his knees bent from exhaustion. His entire body weight rested heavily on his toes and wrists. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself up. Omen walked around Kit at some point during his second taste of his own power and dipped his head, so he was eye level with the hero.
Kit didn’t have the energy to move his head as Omen took his chin in his cold grip, tilting Kit’s head to meet Omen’s black eyes.
“See? All this effort to try and escape me out of your delicious fear. Why in the world would I just take what I want when you’ll destroy yourself not to give it to me?”
Kit wanted to reply. He wanted to tell Omen to fuck off, but his body refused, finally allowing Kit a respite as the darkness around his edges flooded his vision, and he was dragged blissfully into unconsciousness.
***
Continued here
I learned today that ceased and seized are not interchangeable words, don’t worry guys, I love english, mmhm… it’s fine okay?! english is hard
ANYWAYS CONSISTENCY?! ON THIS BLOG?! TWO PARTS IN TWO WEEKS?!?! DO NOT GET USED TO IT, OH MY GOD I AM BEYOND SHOCKED TOO, let’s all enjoy this for what it is and not make any expectations for the future, alright?! Great B) hope you enjoyed it :)
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