#scrollsof7aint

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"...Hm." "...Definitely stronger than all the other apostles I've faced so far. Maybe even tougher than Judas." "...." "...We'll see each other soon." A strained smirk blossomed underneath the pain of what felt like 100 bulls. .... ... .. . ----------------------------------------------------------- "...Hah..!" "--Ghk--ugh.." "..S-shit--ah!" "...nngh--.." One hand clutched to the open wound on your stomach, the other; bloodstained, leaving hand-prints of crimson against the wall as it held you up against the wall. You narrowly escaped with your life during that mission--Just who was that guy..?! Peter. A senile man. That was supposed to be your target tonight, but instead-- a highschooler filled his position. For someone so young, it was evident he had mountains of experience. No wonder the Apostles before you failed. "..Just..a l-..a little--..aargh..!" Heavy knees met the hard-wood floor as you doubled over, a pained gasp leaving you as the intense pain overwhelmed you. You even attempted to crawl--a stubborn soul like you wouldn't let the candle blow out--not now, at least. You even called out to Raphael, hoping that the noise would travel far enough to grab his attention--if he cared to check it out. Moments, soon turned into seconds, into longer seconds, you felt the hope of being saved leak out your bruised and battered body, and truly...you couldn't believe this was your dying moment. Abandoned. Used. Discarded. Lined up against the wall, your eyes fluttered shut and your labored breaths turned into small puffs through your nose. ...... ..... .... ... .. . -----------------------------------------------------------

"...." "..Mhm. I've got her now." "..." "...Vitals are fine..rates are stable...in other words, she'll live." A bored tone. A familiar tone. Familiar, that even in your haze your body could somewhat recognize him. "...." "...." "...." You slowly roused, eyes fluttering open and adjusting to the neutral toned light of the environment. Your brain felt like mush, and your body..well..it should've hurt way more than what you felt. "...Oh?" "..." "..Looks like my handiwork had her waking up earlier than expected. I'll keep you updated." "..." Albeit with some struggle, your body tried to push itself into an upright position, a small wince and the scrunch of your nose was enough to show that you were reeling in from what you had endured, though as the firm footsteps across the tiled floor drew nearer--a latex-clothed hand firmly planted against your shoulder, halting your movements. "Don't." Was all you heard before your body sank back down onto the bed with a little more force than you thought was necessary. Before you could even get a word out, the sound of a chair skidding across the cool, tiled floor grated at your eardrums and you finally looked over, seeing...Nathaniel. ...Though it was Nathaniel...in his.. Pajamas..? Well, partly. Plaid pants with a black tee...and of-course that damn tight-fitting under-suit. He always wore that underneath anything he wore and you could never understand why because every time you tried to bring it up flatly or indirectly, he'd brush it off. Seems like he was dragged out of his slumber for this.. Nathaniel sat on the side of you, leg crossed over the other and arms crossed with an indiscernible expression--it was one thing you hated about him, how you could never get a read on this guy. "...." "...." Was he expecting gratitude..? If that was the case..then.. "..." "...Thanks...Nathaniel.." You murmured with a weary sigh, hoping to break the silence. But it just...stretched on. For an uncomfortable while. Until.. "...Il-na." "...We're acquainted. You can call me that." Right. "...Thanks, il-na." "...." "...Ill save you the boring stuff. I stitched you up, but no over-exertion for a while. Meaning, no missions. Or practice. I injected a special blood serum into your blood-stream, hence the reason you're feeling less pain than you should." All casual, like he was discussing the weather. Whatever this guy was talking about, clearly he knew what he was doing. "Really, it was no big deal in patching you up." Aaaandd..there it was. That thinly-veiled conceitedness. "...Thanks again..." You sighed again. "...So, about Peter--" "--He wasn't there. Never was. Someone else." You interjected. "...." "...Oh? Someone else got you this rough, hm? Please do enlighten me on who could rough up an Apostle like you." Tsk. The strength it took for you to not leap from this bed and strangle this fool. "...Not..sure of his name..but he..had short black hair, red eyes...looked young." "Hm." "Well, doesn't ring a bell, but I'll let Raphael know. Though..im interested myself. Any skills to note?" You just shrugged.

"...Apostle-like.." You racked up. There was literally nothing outstanding because this guy..was outstanding in everything. It was like he was 20 steps ahead, and for a guy so young..???? The chair screeched and scraped against the tiled floor like fork to a chalkboard. "..A mysterious guy shows up like a ghost and wrecks an Apostle into bad shape, and there's nothing interesting to say?" Nathaniel muttered as he made his way to your bed, muscular arms caged your head in like 2 pillars as he leaned in close. Too close for team-mates. "There wasn't enough head-force trauma to render your brain useless, Y/N." He added on in a quieter tone, eyes narrowed in condescending amusement. "...Your body. It's different." A gloved hand, slightly damp with your blood, hooked its thumb and index finger to your chin and tilted your head up slightly. A beat. "...You bled beautifully." His tone had lost that hidden snarkiness, replaced by something...softer around the edges. Like an art critic. Almost reverent. "Most people break when they lose that much blood. You fought through it. Fascinating." "My work was practically cut in half," his hand momentarily left your chin and moved over, fingers gently grazing the fine stitching on your abdomen. "When I stitched you up. Not that much need for a transfusion since your platelets did exceptional work." "..." Silence. Nathaniel's eyes grew distant as he slowly rose up, his eyes staring holes onto your body in thought. "...." "..." "...This mystery man. Ill dissect him. Muscle by muscle. And when i'm done, Ill know his secrets and surpass him too." He muttered, more to himself to hear, than you to listen to. Then, eyes snapped back to your face. "..Him. Did he bleed anywhere on you? Get any of his DNA on you?" He asked, a little impatient in his tone as he waited for a..hopefully positive answer. "...No..I..I don't..think so.." You finally answered. It was about damn-time you became a part of this one-sided conversation. Though, Nathaniel took a sharp inhale through his nose as he pinched his nose bridge. "...Whatever, we'll just use you instead." ".." "...When I deem your body competent enough, I wanna run some tests. Reflexes, pain threshold, regenerative abilities." He spoke with a tilt of his head, arms crossed over his night-tee. "...Nothing fatal of course, I'd never waste such pretty data." He smirked, a faint glint of something shone in his otherwise sunken eyes. Cold with impassiveness at life, but burning like a newly found hyper-fixation. "...And maybe...if I like what I see, I'll be kind enough to give you one of my charms." Deadpan. "...One'll be laced with adrenaline. Might help you actually catch someone next time and save you the embarrassment of coming back empty."

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