The Danish Slaughterhouse by: IntraSule

Chapter 21: But Which One?

Soreness and exhaustion ate at every limb of Lukas's body, yet he felt too numb to truly notice; every inch of him pounded with aches and sensitive bruises that he was sure were on his flesh with all of the torture he took, from his back when he slammed into that cellar shelf by Mathias's spell, to his neck when Mathias caught him in that moment of weakness and moved to seize the opportunity (and his tight, large grip still lingered on Lukas's throat, giving the man a shiver at what he barely managed to avoid) to his heart, ripping itself into piece after dead, empty piece so much that it was hard for Lukas to breathe.

And the watch latched around his wrist didn't help. As he ran, and his arms swung back and forth from the motion, the bulky gadget on his wrist came to view again and again, its tiny, hard-to-read green screen rendering it useless as nothing as but a reminder of what- who- he had just lost. Everything in this horrible environment was hard to see; with the tears blurring his vision, it was a wonder that Lukas didn't crash into any furnishings or appliances, or even tripped over his own feet while trying to escape the Dane. It was amazing what the body could do while on autopilot, because as he was physically running away from his greatest enemy, it felt like he was still in that cold, dusty Hell, kneeling next to his baby brother, his fingers stroking Emil's once-rosy cheeks to find the warmth already dissipating from his soft, slack face.

The watch kept coming into view and disappearing, going back and forth, the green light from it showing up in his field of vision and leaving, Emil here one moment, gone the next...

That boy should have kept the damn accessory. He was a fool to think that Lukas wouldn't be able to protect him, or that the plan to ambush the Dane wouldn't work. If they had just fucking stuck to it- if Emil hadn't tried to attack Mathias by himself- it would have worked to save them, and that bastard would be dead, Lukas would still have Emil by his side, and they could leave this horrible hellhole and come back with a mob, a mass of angry people with whom they could share this horror with to rile them, who would help them burn that degenerate's body and his new home so he wouldn't come back to do this to anyone else.

And yet, Lukas knew that he was the bigger fool for letting his brother fall like that, for taking the watch and not asking Emil about his intention behind the act, and not seeing that Emil was hotheaded enough to do something horribly risky and so damn ridiculous. How could he have called himself a protective big brother when he didn't stop Emil from acting on his wild temper? Lukas's run slowed into a jog, and then to a complete stop, his eyes gazing around the furniture and decor of the living room that he suddenly found himself in. His arms fell limply to his side, the damn watch growing heavier and weighing his hand down.

"Lukas!" He could hear the man's shout from far away, possibly from within the dining room that was built between the kitchen and den. Damn, Mathias has gotten faster over the years. "Luka-aa-as!"

Lukas then raised his arm bearing the device, risking whatever has remained of his shattered, fragile heart as he stared at it, the bubbly tone of Mathias's "I'm-going-to-get-you" sing-song call sounding like a soft echo in Lukas's mind, overpowered by the bizarre clarity breaking through the cloud of grief the longer he stared at the watch, this clarity hitting him so hard he could feel pain in his guts at how wrong his decision was.

Wasn't he making himself into a bigger fool, and an easier target, by abandoning his own plan and running away?

Although Mathias's speed did increase over the years- thanks to brilliant military training from all the past wars- it still felt like Lukas was the faster one of the two, the way he moved so swiftly that Mathias was barely able to catch up to him. Making it to the dining room, Mathias paused to crane his neck and cup his mouth. "Lukas!" he tried once more, but his calls bore no results; the only reply he seemed to get was an echo of his own voice that rang in the empty house, but Mathias wasn't going to panic over the possibility of losing his own game yet. The little robots were still swimming around in Lukas's bloodstream, and even if Lukas can remember his spells and"magically" poof himself out of the house, Mathias was sure- at least, he hoped- that he wasn't going to risk it when it meant activating the little nanites and sending his body to near-electrocution.