The Inception (Book #1 of The Inception Trilogy)

chapter fifteen

(Adam Hicks--in gif above--is a close reference of how I picture Nick, who you'll meet in this chapter. note: since it's spring break for me--YAY!--brace yourself for a few early updates, if that's all right. thank you for reading xx)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IT'S OBVIOUS THESE MEN have never caught an experiment that's had years to adapt to it's moderations and realize it's capability. Harry could give a good yank against the ropes and snap them as easy as snapping a twig. The two men pushing him by either of his shoulders aren't as tough as they'd like to think, and they don't have any of those fancy guns with them. He could've taken them out while they were tying him up. He could take them out right now at the blink of an eye and be on his merry way.

However, he doesn't know where they're taking Eve and Sasha, and he doesn't know where Robbie and Nive are. He's not going to let these buffoons push him around and get away with it, but he's also not going to rush into it. He's learned patience over the years, and he's learned how to spot an opening and when to take it.

His hearing is still focused in on Eve walking in the opposite direction, and that idiot Locke is still making crude remarks. His instincts are strong enough to know that you don't speak to a woman in such a way. For some reason Locke's words make Harry's blood boil, and he has to force himself to stop listening in. Which requires less effort with more distance constantly spreading between them.

Quincy is ahead, and he peers over his shoulder at Harry. Harry glares back, making Quincy clear his throat. "You're different from the others," he says. "Almost like you're more intelligent, but intelligence doesn't live in your kind."

Harry can't help but scoff, the first actual sound he's made in months.

Quincy abruptly stops, nearly making the soldier on Harry's right smack into him. He narrows his eyes at Harry, trying to stand taller though they're both of equal height. "Maybe you aren't as stupid as the others, but don't think that puts you above them. You're all animals, and you'll pay for the destruction you've made."

Harry holds his stare, not the least bit shaken by Quincy's threat. Does he really think he's being intimidating? These were words for children compared to what Harry's endured in the past. Words Harry could laugh at if he let his smugness get the better of him, which he refuses to let happen. Every arrogant fighter always falls eventually because they're never willing to admit defeat, or are just too blind to see their end.

Quincy's eyes swoop over Harry and he scowls. "The girl forgot to give you the shirt." He flicks his head for his men to follow him with Harry in their grasp, then he enters a bedroom down the hall that's filled with clothing. He snatches a flannel off the rack, handing it to him.

Harry raises his eyebrow, then holds up his tied wrists.

Quincy grumbles under his breath. "Weapons out," he barks, and the two soldiers release Harry to pull out long knives that look freshly sharpened. Harry doesn't so much as blink when one cuts his ropes, nearly slicing his arm. "Hurry up."

He catches the flannel, slipping his arms into it. It fits quite well, but he keeps the top two buttons undone to prevent it from feeling too suffocating. He glances at the knives being pointed at him from either side, wanting to smack them away just out of annoyance. He maintains his composure, though, and allows Quincy to apply more rope. Harry doesn't give Quincy the reaction he wants when he ties the rope excruciatingly tight; he simply holds his stare.

"If anyone ever has doubts you animals are demons, all they've got to do is look you in the eyes," mutters Quincy, cringing away despite his efforts to stand tall.