Rat Man's confidence visibly wavered as Minho continued to relentlessly pound his fists against the invisible wall that was protecting him and keeping the psychotic teenager from wrapping his strong hands around Rat Man's scrawny neck. Maybe Minho's third trial of playing all of his friend's deaths over and over again until he was convinced they were all dead, was probably not the best idea. Maybe Rat Man should have given Minho some time to calm down. The wall had been tested, just not on someone like Minho, someone filled with so much rage and pain. Then, what Rat Man had thought impossible, his invisible wall cracked.
The noise was so loud and unexpected, both males froze, clearly not expecting what had just happened. Rat Man froze and stared in a paralysing shock at Minho's strength. He slowly turned to face the traumatised teenager. Minho's face had twisted into a grin and he slowly pulled back his fist.
The second crack was louder than the first. Rat Man flinched which, unfortunately for the Director, appeared to fuel Minho's rage.
"Minho" Rat Man began, he didn't feel like getting his face bashed in. "Hurting me is not going to achieve anything"
Minho paused his third and what would appear his final swing briefly. "No…" Minho began slowly. "But it will sure as hell make me feel better"
Minho's ferocious third swing smashed Rat Man's defensive wall he was once so utterly proud of into pitiful smithereens. Behind the wall Rat Man was invincible. He was invulnerable to whatever anyone tried to throw at him. But Rat Man supposed he'd never pushed anyone quite as emotionally far before.
A roughly calloused, bloody hand reached out and clamped like an iron grip around Rat Man's neck, squeezing without mercy, squeezing the breath out of him, willing the life out of Janson's eyes.
Then came the punches.
The first punch was excruciating and left his face screaming in agony.
By the sixth punch Janson couldn't feel anything. Just the unbearable throbbing that had erupted in his head.
After the eighth punch Rat Man's vision was nothing but disorientating, vertigo-inducing swirls of black and grey.
After the tenth punch there was so much blood in his mouth; but he didn't expect the momentum of the punch to send splatters of the dark red liquid on the clean and pristine white floors. His limbs were completely dead, useless weights and he was pretty sure the unrelenting grip around his throat had tightened, Minho's nails digging in with such force it drew blood. Small tendrils of the red liquid crawling their way down Rat Man's neck like worms.
The twelfth punch never came. The weight was abruptly lifted from his fragile form. An unanticipated piercing mess of searing white light obscured the black abyss of his vision.
Rat Man began to shamelessly try to pull some well desired oxygen into his rapidly failing body only to choke from the blood that swirled in his mouth and his partially crushed airway. He vaguely registered someone pushing him onto his side to let the fluids from his mouth out so he could breathe once again.
Rat Man felt many unpredictable emotions flood through him, the two dominant emotions, however, were anger and fear. Anger at Minho's pathetic inability to see that all his pain and suffering was going towards potentially curing and saving the Human race from extinction; and fear of Minho. Somewhere in Janson's subconscious, he registered that being terrified of a seventeen year old boy was utterly deplorable and humiliating, but after everything Minho and the other test subjects have had been forced to go through, they were all adults in children's bodies. The leader of the group was no exception.
Minho could have killed him with a terrifying ease. Janson had always felt uncomfortable around the Glader but now it went beyond that and went straight to down-right terrified.
Rat Man, trying to desperately ignore that fact he'd beaten to the edge of death by a teenager, and decided that he would show these children that at the end of the day he called the shots and they could do nothing about it.
Rat Man grinned irrationally under his half-crazed, beaten face.