Breaking the Rules [BoyxBoy]

24 | ωαrrισr

warning: explicit content ahead

My armor is made of steel
You can't get in, I'm a warrior
And you can never hurt me again

Chapter 24 ~ Warrior

Owen Bailey

Fatigue. Thirst. Extreme fatigue and thirst were the only emotions my mind could place in that moment–that very moment where my eyelids were struggling to flick open, irritably burning at what seemed like such a simple action. I was almost sure my eyes were playing tricks on me because I couldn't see a damn thing other than an eerie darkness that brought chills down my spine. I strained to see through the thick gloom, strained to figure out how I had ended up in this predicament, and strained to move because every limb and every muscle felt numb.

Then, by some miracle, the darkness was coincidentally lifted to ease my curiosity. There, standing in the doorway of a room with stainless steel walls, was the man I had spent a huge part of my life trying to avoid, trying to not accidentally cross paths with, trying to run away from. He hadn't aged a day; he wore the same uneasy smile, had the same unsettling clear blue eyes that always seemed to stare into your soul, kept the same perfectly-groomed sandy blonde hair, wore the same crisp suit that gave you the impression he was an actual businessman, and held the same presence that made me shrivel to the core.

And it was in that moment I knew I was done for.

"Owen," he spoke in a deep, velvety voice that made me flinch. "Long time no see."

Instead of entertaining him with a response, I chose to assess my current position in hopes of finding a way to get out of here. I was kneeling on the cold floor with my wrists tied behind my back by what I assumed to be a rope of some kind. My first instinct was to pull my wrists apart, thinking it would loosen the rope, but it didn't. My next thought was to shoot to my feet and charge at him with full speed to gain access to the only exit of the room, but I had no idea where the exit would take me. Even if I managed to bypass Lucifer, there was little chance that I could fight his henchmen who were sure to await me.

A low, humorless chuckle sounded from Lucifer as he glided over to another part of the room which contained a steel table that held several objects I couldn't decipher.

"Would you care for a drink?" he asked as he held a wine glass up for me to see. "Red, or white?"

"If you're going to kill me, then just do it already," I spat.

He stared at me for some time. "Oh, I will. Trust me, you will die a slow and painful death, but where's the fun in rushing things? We have so much to catch up on. How's life been treating you? Who are you voting for−" He paused, "−you know what, you seem like a total Trump supporter."

And maybe this was the part that would hurt the most. I wanted to die. I wanted to get the inevitable over with, but it wasn't in Lucifer's nature to give anyone what they wanted. He would toy with your mind until you were practically begging to die, and even then, he wouldn't put you out of your misery.

His glass was full with wine when he spoke again. "I'm curious, Owen. How were your few years of freedom? Did you get married? Have kids?" I merely stared at him, attempting to burn holes into him with my intense stare, but he wasn't the least bit fazed. "Did you go to college? I know that's always been your dream. College isn't all what it's worked up to be, you know. I didn't go to college and look at how successful I am."

My gaze dropped to the floor again. If I were to die, I needed to die fighting since the chances of getting out of this situation alive was next to zero. "You're wasting your time with this," I told him truthfully. "I know you too well. Your games won't work on me. Just kill me."