Prey (Male!Naga x Male!Reader)

Chapter 19

While the naga was out fetching more food for Y/n, the (h/c) man decided to use this time wisely. He dug the radios out from underneath the pile of fruit and looked them over. No matter what, Y/n had to remember that he couldn't reasonably live this way: trapped in this cage at the mercy of some mercurial creature. Never mind hushed, honest conversations or gentle touches — so inexplicable in their nature — cradling his face.

He needed out, he needed the key, and then maybe he could just leave the island behind for good. Clearly, the naga did not want any of them here. Y/n would rather risk his life trying to return home than stay here, rotting in this cage.

For what seemed to be the millionth time, Y/n took apart Mark's radio and put it back together (with replacement parts from his own mostly smashed radio). He expected nothing when he turned the knob that controlled both the power and volume. He had lost all hope a while ago (even if he wouldn't admit it in a million years). He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what he was doing wrong when putting this tech back together. Yet, the (h/c) man felt that he just needed to be doing something. Even if it was hopeless.

But then the radio's empty screen gave the slightest flicker; a black imprint of numbers against smudged plastic. Y/n gave a sharp inhale, breath abruptly catching in his throat — no, surely, his eyes were deceiving him?

Y/n blinked rapidly, trying to clear the hallucination away (if it was indeed a hallucination).

Of course, it was always when one expected nothing, that they received everything.

The numbers weren't going away.

Defiantly the radio sputtered on with a loud crackle as Y/n's fingers kept turning up the volume: technology's own version of a dying gasp (or perhaps a resurrected one).

Y/n could feel his heart stop. It was on. The radio was really on and working.

For a few seconds, the (h/c) man honestly didn't believe it. Didn't believe in the static the radio emitted; didn't believe in the sound ringing in his ears. Since the beginning, Y/n had thought the radio's nonfunctioning state defied all logic but now that it worked it seemed to, again, defy all logic. What had the (h/c) man done differently this time? Had he placed one of the parts in another position without consciously thinking about it?

Y/n's heart restarted with a vicious palpitation. He realized it didn't matter why it was working; all that mattered was that it was. He fumbled with the radio in his hands, nearly dropping it — and cursing himself throughout this whole ridiculous predicament.

Quickly, with a nervous sweat now clinging to the back of his neck and beading up on his forehead, Y/n gave a wild look around at his surroundings.

His heart was beating in his throat. The naga had left — Y/n didn't know how long ago! But surely, he still had time left before it came back? Oh god, he never heard when it returned; the creature was so quiet.

Hands shaking, Y/n brought the radio in close to his face. He wiped the dirt and grime away from the radio's small screen and strained his eyes to make out the cracked channel number the radio was turned to. With trembling fingers, he began changing it to what he knew Dr. Nilsson would have all her radios tuned to.

Time seemed to slow as each channel ticked by. Then, with a burst of static, it settled.

But there was only silence that greeted him. Dead silence. No inane radio chatter or intermittent checkups. Not like there should be. A deep-seated dread formed in Y/n's gut. What if there really was no one left? What if the naga had picked everyone off? Slowly, as Y/n rotted away in this cage, helpless to stop any of it...