Page 147 of Fractured Ties

That’s what Kolya felt when he tried to force his eyes open. It seemed like no matter what he did, his eyelids were determined to stay shut. Or they were glued that way. Numbness touched his fingertips and toes.

It was the only place that was numb.

The rest of his body was a war zone. Each movement caused agony to rip through every single one of his nerves.

Fuck.

He couldn’t even breathe.

Yet, he needed to.

It was not lost on him that every time he blinked in and out of consciousness, his breaths seemed to come harder and shorter. That every time he woke up again like this on the cold, wet cement, it became harder to open his eyes and take air into his lungs.

His body was a fire.

Warm to the touch and only getting hotter. Yet, he shivered. His teeth chattered. He sweated even through the chills. He knew what that meant without someone else telling him.

Inflammation.

Infection.

Kolya needed to get up—he needed to get the hell out of that chamber, or he was never going to leave it. He was going to fucking die there on the cement from a raging infection. It didn’t matter, though, because he couldn’t do anything.

No matter how hard he tried.

He could barely make a noise, but in his head, he was screaming for help. And then when his struggles to just wake up came to a head and he started blinking out again, he would hear the noise in the background.

The whimpers of a puppy getting louder. Low whines whispering along his cheek, and the huff of a pup who didn’t understand, and wanted him to move. Soft fur sliding along his skin. A wet, rough, warm tongue lapping at the most painful spots on his chest.

Sumerki.

And when the pain became too much to handle all over again, Kolya finally found the ability to move. Just enough to turn his head and vomit all over the cement.

His breaths came even harder.

His mind went black again.

• • •

Kolya didn’t know what woke him up again—the murmurings of voices just beyond a doorway, or the barking dog that seemed entirely too loud and way too close to his ringing ears.

“Sumerki, stop,” Kolya said.

Or, he thought he did.

It was entirely possible that the raspy croak he heard was his own voice, but who knew? He didn’t know anything anymore. Kolya wasn’t even sure how many days he had been on this fucking floor now. He couldn’t tell by time passing. There was no window for him to feel or see the heat of the sun rising and lowering.

He knew nothing.

Sumerki kept barking.

Sharp and anxious.

Kolya knew that bark.

Outside, the voices got louder. Had the metal door been opened at some point?

“Let me go in, Zhatka.”