Aftg react

Part62

Foxes react: chapter13 part1

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"Going somewhere?" Lola asked.
Nathaniel brandished his hands at her. "These are going to get infected if I don't clean them soon."
"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you."
"You're not me," Nathaniel said, and got to his feet.
An industrial sink was built into the far wall. It didn't have a mirror.
He was glad he couldn't see his face, but it would have made this easier. He washed his hands first, hissing through clenched teeth. It hurt so bad he wanted to stop, but he made himself rub soapy water into his burns. By the time he rubbed wet hands over his face his fingers were trembling and his stomach was quaking with pain-induced nausea. He had nothing to dry off on afterward, since his clothes were dirty with sweat and streaks of blood. He held his arms out to air dry instead.

It was not really the first think to worry about but this was Neil so of course he was like that but Abby was nodding along happy that he at least cared about his injuries even if it was the wrong time.
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Two years behind bars hadn't aged his father a bit. Aside from a couple lost pounds Nathan Wesninski looked the same now as he always had. The house was a garish demonstration of his wealth, but Nathan didn't waste his time dressing up. He saw no need for fancy clothes when he liked getting dirty at work. He came down the stairs barefoot, wearing dark gray jeans and a black button-up shirt.

Fist thought that past thro their head was that Neil and his father really looked familiar but no one commented on that "it's disgusting" said Nicky referring to the fact the Neil's father was barefoot walking around on the room he kills people at.
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"On your feet," Nathan said. The sound of his voice was enough to turn Nathaniel's stomach to jelly. "You know better than to sit in my presence."
Nathaniel told himself to stay put, but he was already getting up. Lola laughed at that easy obedience and made a circle of the room so she could stand behind Nathaniel.
"Hello, Junior," Nathan said.
Nathaniel's jaw worked. He didn't dare speak; he didn't know what he would say. Nathan padded across the room toward him. It took everything Nathaniel had left to hold his ground. Nathan stopped in front of him, so close Nathaniel could smell his cologne. Nathaniel stared at the top button of his shirt like it could somehow save him from all of this.
Nathan's hand settled on his shoulder it what could have been but wasn't a reassuring gesture. Nathaniel braced himself for the inevitable blow, but his knees still buckled when Nathan punched the burns on his cheek. Nathan caught him by his throat as he fell. Nathaniel choked and scrabbled to find his feet again. He knew better than to grab his father for balance. He knew what his father would do if Nathaniel touched him.
"I said hello," Nathan said when Nathaniel was upright again.
Nathaniel's lips moved, but no sound came out. It took two more tries before he managed a quiet, "Hello."
"Look at me when I'm talking to you."
A scream felt like it was going to tear his throat open where he was keeping it bottled inside, but Nathaniel forced his stare up to Nathan's face.

"Jesus..." said Wymack just as horrified as the others about what they were watching, they were gaping at the scene in front of them the weight of not being able to do anything about it settling heavy on their shoulders.
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"You made a liar of me to people who are not to be lied to. Do you know what I'm going to do to you?
"I'm not entirely sure just yet, myself," Nathan said when Nathaniel could only stare numbly up at him. "I've had a couple years to think it over but now that the time has come I'm indecisive. I might skin you alive. I might take you apart one inch at a time and cauterize the wounds. I think no matter what I choose we are going to start by slicing the tendons in your legs. You're not going to run away this time, Nathaniel. I'm not going to let you."
"Fuck you," Nathaniel spat at him, voice sharp with horror.
Nathan pushed Nathaniel away from him and held his hand out. DiMaccio crossed the room toward him. In one hand he held Nathan's ancient, dull axe. In the other was Nathan's cleaver. Nathan turned at DiMaccio's approach and considered the weapons with interest.

It was terrible worse then that, has heard about two times the ways that he might die from. Seeing all this  showed them how sick in the head he was.
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Nathaniel took advantage of his distraction and tried to bolt, but Lola was expecting it. She jumped on Nathaniel from behind and wound her arms around him. She couldn't hold him forever but she didn't have to. She slowed him long enough that DiMaccio could hand off a weapon and thunder past Nathan.
He scooped Nathaniel off the ground with a fistful of shirt, unmoved by the fists that rained down on him. Lola let go and neatly stepped back, and DiMaccio heaved Nathaniel at the closest wall. Impact smashed the breath of Nathaniel and he fell awkwardly to the floor. He caught himself with his hands, which was an awful mistake, but he didn't have the breath to cry out. He was so dizzy he felt ill, but movement in the corner of his eye got him moving. Metal flashed a scarce inch from his face as Nathan took a swing. Terror got Nathaniel on his feet faster than his body wanted to move and he retreated from his father's cleaver.
Nathan didn't chase him. He gave his cleaver an experimental wave, as if reacquainting himself with its weight, and tested its blade against his thumb. He must have just sharpened it, because blood welled up almost immediately.
Nathaniel's last nerve broke.

It happened quickly and it didn't give much time to react except tense and hope for the best, the were just as scared for him after they saw how close the cleaver had come.
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He couldn't get past Nathan and DiMaccio, which meant taking his chance with Lola's knife and gun. He spun and ran for her. The wild smile on her face said she'd expected this resistance. She braced herself for the inevitable collision, knife out and ready to do some terrible damage. She slashed at him as he got closer. Nathaniel twisted away from the blade, nearly spraining his ankle in his hurry. Lola's gun was in his face a second later and knowing she couldn't pull the trigger didn't stop him from ducking.
She came at him, knife hand up for another swipe, and Nathaniel punched her in the throat. He barely heard the terrible choking sound she made through the crackling pain in his ears.

They cheered even for something little like that, if he could get past her then he had a chance to make it out of there.
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Every cut and burn on his hand was screaming in protest. He clenched his fingers tighter and took another swing. Lola dodged, but barely, and left a hot stripe up his chest with the tip of her blade. Nathaniel was now between her and the door, and he threw the bar up to unlock it. Lola grabbed his hair before he could open the door but Nathaniel didn't care how much hair he lost. He surged forward anyway, refusing to let go of the knob.
"Move," Nathan said right behind them.
He was talking to Lola, but Nathaniel threw himself to one side too. Nathan's cleaver came down right where he'd been standing. Metal screamed as he scratched a line down the door, and Nathan turned a hot look on his fallen son. Nathaniel scrambled backwards, hope dying a vicious death in his chest.

Their hope hadn't lost long either but even as they saw what was happening in front of them and they could see that there really is nothing that could turn the table at Neil's but a miracle they could at least hope and wish for it.