Get out! Get out! Get out!
"Susan! Get him out of here!" Nathan scrambled towards the wall, smacking into it as he quickly found his way to the corner. The door should be opposite him, the other two near the adjacent wall. "Get Wren out of here as fast as you can!"
"I'm trying!" Susan half shouted, have sobbed back, the sudden scream from Wren the only indication she had moved him. The red eyes seemed to narrow and then suddenly vanished, the room becoming abruptly cold.
Nathan heard the door creak, and as his eyes started to adjust to the darkness, he could see the vague outline of the figures in the room. They were getting out; he could see the shapes as they moved out the door, the sound -- which had to be Susan trying to drag the teen across the floor -- matching their movement. With his hand still on the wall, Nathan tried to follow, intent on carrying Wren when he was close enough, determined to get them all out of there before it was too late, before Gabriel took his life, before Ira came after them all...
And then he couldn't breathe.
It was as if he'd suddenly been wrapped in an enormous blanket: the room went completely black again, stifling warmth engulfed him, and the air became so thick he couldn't draw breath. His chest began to burn; his senses became foggy. Every limb started to go prickly and numb. Nathan couldn't tell if he was still moving or not. His heart pounded painfully and he felt dizzy. He opened his mouth to scream, to gasp for air, but there was no sound, no relief. He felt like he was floating, or falling. Were his eyes still open or had he closed them? He couldn't hear the others anymore, couldn't see them. Had they gotten out? Had he? He couldn't feel his hands or feet, arms or legs. Only the dreadful pain in his chest that became worse and worse and worse...
The pain was gone.
Nathan opened his eyes, squinting at the sudden brightness. He blinked a few times to let them adjust to the light, trying to remember what had happened. Where was he? Light-headed, he was still able to see in front of him, but the only thing in view was a concrete floor. He was still in the factory. Nathan barely managed a groan as his other senses slowly returned. His shoulder throbbed, and he became aware of the pole he was leaning against, the coldness of the metal sticking against his skin. A chill ran through his back and arms, and he realized he wasn't wearing his sweater. Then he felt the painful numbness in his hands, especially his wrists. Finally, he tried to sit up.
Wherever Nathan was, and however he had gotten there, finding himself sitting in the middle of a barren room, shirtless, and with his wrists bound and tied to a pole with hempen rope didn't bode well. Nor did the exasperated sigh that came from behind him.
"I find your frequent disregard for demands both admirable and disturbing. I told you to leave, Nathan. Why didn't you listen to me?"
"Alton?" There wasn't enough slack in the rope that he could stand, even though his wrists were bound in front of him, but the writer did manage to turn around. "Alton, what happened...?"
"Wait! Don't..." Alton cringed when he faced him, then sighed in defeat. "...look..."
Nathan gasped when his eyes fell on him, and he couldn't stop himself from muttering, "Oh my God..."
The Devil, in his true form, winced when he heard the writer's quiet words. It was not how Nathan would have pictured him, even after the glimpse he got last month, and he certainly looked far more angel than demon. The over tunic he wore was pure white, save for its intricate gold trim, the tunic beneath a pale shade of sky blue. He wore leather sandals that wrapped up his legs to the knee and seemed to shimmer with flecks of gold, matching the golden sash around his waist. Around his neck hung what seemed at first to be an ankh, but then Nathan realized it was actually a Tau cross with a serpent entwined around it, and around his head he wore a golden band that seemed to glow with an inner light. With his raven hair cascading down over his shoulders and his blue eyes staring at him, Lumiel would have been a hauntingly beautiful thing to behold, if not for the rest.
First, like Nathan, his wrists were bound in front of him, but instead of rope they were wrapped in heavy chains. They weren't attached to anything, but that didn't matter. Several other chains attached to the ceiling kept him in place, grotesque hooks buried into his wings at various points, holding them out and open, leaving his feet dangling just shy of the floor. Horrifically, several small pools of blood were on either side of him, right beneath his wings. The angel shifted uncomfortably, sending another trickle of blood drops to the ground.
"I know what they want of me," he said to Nathan, his head lowered. "Or at least what Superbia wants, and what she's willing to do to get it."
Nathan could barely look at him, and not just because of the awkward angle he was at. He tugged at his restraints, biting back a wince as the ropes dug into his skin. "I'm afraid to ask."
That got a small, half-hearted chuckle out of Lumiel while he shook his head. "I don't blame you. You've been caught up in this mess by no fault of your own." He sighed. "She's attempting a coup d'état."
What? Is he serious? She's trying to... fuck, this opens up so many more questions. Is Superbia really trying to overthrow him? Why? How? And what do I have to do with all of this?
I don't know how much time I have to get answers from him. Where do I start?