Prey (Male!Naga x Male!Reader)

Chapter 30

Pain. Pure and at its most primal; at its rawest — ripped through Y/n's leg. It was all he knew. His hands went straight for his injury, but Einar's boot was still planted solidly on it, heel digging into the mangled flesh and Y/n clawed at the thick material of his shoe, trying anything — everything to get it the fuck off.

But it was futile.

The first wave of horrendous pain dulled, only to be replaced by a second and a third; its timing dependent on the minute shifts of Einar's weight. And Y/n couldn't do anything except sit there on the ground and take it, the other man's foot pinning him right in place.

Dr. Nilsson was still standing over him nearby, one hand holding her gun — lax and by her side — and the other hand slapping a nervous, but quick, beat over her jean-clad thigh. Her eyes were darting everywhere by the tree line, waiting... waiting for the naga to show himself.

Y/n was vaguely aware tears were streaming down his face. He was more aware of the realization that Dr. Nilsson — Dr. Nilsson was using him as some sick kind of bait. But it wouldn't work, would it? Enlil would see right through this and he wouldn't come.

And — "Interesting." Dr. Nilsson's keen gaze and secretive assessments as she learned the naga was the one keeping Y/n alive — Dr. Nilsson was the idiot here. She overestimated whatever companionship she believed existed between Y/n and the naga. The (h/c) man knew that for a damn fact.

Enlil continuing to leave him fruits, wanting to set him free —

The naga did not care that much. Dr. Nilsson had led them to this clearing; to this trap just to die. The naga wouldn't reveal himself and they were surrounded by mangroves on all sides. They'd eventually have to go walking through it again and Enlil would finish them off when they did.

"You're the idiot," Y/n hissed out, full of pain and vindication.

Dr. Nilsson's eyes immediately snapped down to his.

"This isn't — isn't going to work," the (h/c) man forced the words out, even though Einar chose that moment to dig his heel in further.

Dr. Nilsson's eyes darkened. "No?" she spoke quietly — and the gun was aimed right between Y/n's eyes. "Then should I put you out of your misery now?"

A rush of breath left Y/n's mouth, hitching in his throat like a laugh. "Go ahead."

The gun moved, the trigger was pulled, and pained crashed into Y/n's shoulder; the impact strong enough to send him down firmly to the ground. Another scream was ripped from Y/n's lungs.

"Come out, naga!" Dr. Nilsson's voice rose above all of that. "Or I kill him with the next shot," and the gun was again aimed right at the center of Y/n's forehead.

Y/n, bleeding and shot yet again, still shook his head. The (h/c) man's only consolation was that they were all going to die here with him.

Dr. Nilsson looked around, hoping — but Y/n watched that hope die. The naga wasn't coming, was he? This had all been for nothing, hadn't it?

Dr. Nilsson's eyes met Y/n's, the (h/c) man knew the next time that trigger was pulled would be the last. He was — he braced himself for it, gathering up whatever was left inside of himself — strength maybe, pride, it could be —

Y/n would face this — gun aimed squarely at him, index finger curling around its trigger —

A horrendous crash resounded.

Dr. Nilsson immediately faced its source and Y/n rolled his head around to follow her gaze. A large tree had been uprooted and brought down, branches shaking, knocking together — entangled roots thick and scarring the dawn sky.