It was silent the whole time I was being dragged along behind Ivan. It hurt to ignore the familiar, stinging pain spreading over my back, but I kept quiet. At some point we must have taken a different turn; I had never seen this part of the house before… Ivan suddenly kicked a door in and dragged me inside. I soon realized we were in his room and an overwhelming dread flooded through me.
Instead of throwing me on the bed like I expected, he walked over to the small dresser. There must have been a hidden button or switch because a part of the wall opened up to reveal a long hallway with a heavy metal door at the other end.
The little trick smile was back as Ivan pulled me down the hall and threw me into the dark room locked behind the metal door. "This will be your new home until you learn to be good!" he said cheerfully. "You will be obedient, like pets are supposed to be, da?"
"No!" I shouted, tired of being treated like a worthless, dirty dog. "I'm not your fucking pet!"
In the dim light coming from the door I saw Ivan pull something from his pocket. When he reached out and pulled me up by my hair I realized the object in his hand was that damn collar… Somewhere in that twisted mind of his, Ivan got the idea to attach razors to a dog collar as a form of punishment and humiliation for me. Just like every other time, he grinned and clasped it around my neck so tight I was nearly choking. This seemed to satisfy him; he tossed me back to the ground as if I were just a worthless piece of garbage.
This action was enough to break the wall I had built up to keep my words and actions somewhat censored. Without thinking of the consequences, I spit at Ivan's feet and muttered "пошел на хуй, damn crazy bastard!" I then grabbed the end of the pipe dangling from his left hand and tried to yank it away; instead, I was pulled up by the hand gripping the pipe until I was eye level with Ivan.
"You do not touch my pipe. You already learned that lesson a long time ago, didn't you? Or am I just imagining things now?" he said in a threatening yet childish voice.
Before I could get another word out, Ivan kicked me in the ribs, breaking the ones that had already cracked and sending me back to the ground. That insane dark aura flared up again and he maliciously started muttering "Kolkolkolkolkolkolkolkol…" in a long line under his breath. I braced myself for the beating sure to come.
As expected, he first struck a blow to my already injured ribs. I let out a small yelp in pain, which seemed to encourage him. The next few hits were precise and aimed at the center of my back and shoulder, but soon the blows became random and vicious as the muttering grew louder and the hate behind it became more obvious. Unable to take the pain silently anymore, I had to let out a yelp or a whimper every few hits. When he finally stopped, I let out a sigh of relief.
"You will learn to be good, one way or another," he said calmly as he raised his pipe over his head. "до свидания, pet," he cooed as the bloodstained object collided with my head, leaving my vision fuzzy and my mind a clouded mess…
When I was sure that Ivan was gone, I let out a groan of pain. Feeling too weak and exhausted to roll over off my raw, stinging back, I stayed put and shut my eyes tight against the pain while keeping a slow beat to the steady pounding in my head.
'One… two… three…four…five…six…seven…' My thoughts scattered as another rhythm started. No, not a rhythm…footsteps… I laid there, panicked and hopeless, feeling my own blood slowly pooling around me. One thought ran through my head: 'Why won't he just leave me alone…?!'
I braced myself for another beating but flinched when I felt a soft, warm hand on my forehead. '…that can't be Ivan…' I slowly opened my eyes to meet a pair of worried, sympathetic green ones and a wave of relief washed over me. "Hey, Toris…" I said quietly.
A little worry left his eyes as he realized I was conscious. "Don't talk, save your energy for recovering…" he said in his soft, cautious voice.
"I'll be fine, don't worry…" I mumbled, still a bit disoriented from the beating.
Toris was about to say something when another set of footsteps cam running down the hall. "Hey, she ok…?" a familiar voice asked. I immediately recognized it as Gilbert's.
"I'm ok, Gil…" I said, hoping to calm the hint of worry audible in his voice.
"Kid! You're awake!" Gil exclaimed happily as he knelt down by my side across from Toris. "You look like hell though…" he said guiltily, running a hand through his silver-white hair.
"Don't worry about it, I have you guys to take care of me now," I said with a faint smile as I closed my eyes again.
As always, Toris placed some cotton between my neck and the collar so it couldn't cut me anymore than it already had. I then felt a light, hesitant touch over my torso and tried to ignore the pain, but Toris must have seen the brief flash of agony on my face. He quickly went to work making a splint for my broken ribs. "We're going to have to sit you up to put this on and clean you up…" he said quietly. I bit my lip knowing how much that was going to hurt with the deep, raw wounds on my back.
"No worries, I came prepared," Gilbert said. "I snagged a bottle of the bastard's vodka from the kitchen." I could tell he was grinning from the pride in his voice.
"Thanks, Gil," I said, my small smile returning at the thought of the strong alcohol working through my system.
Slowly and carefully, Toris and Gilbert sat me upright. I could feel my skin peeling from the floor and a burning broke out on my back as the cold air hit it. I couldn't help but whimper in pain at the feeling. When I felt the cold end of a vodka bottle held to my lips, I gratefully drank the liquid, letting it burn down my throat and fill my stomach with a warm, comforting sensation.
Too soon, the bottle was pulled away. "Don't want to have you getting sick," Gilbert said apologetically.
In the same, quiet tone, Toris whispered "Try to hold still… I'm sorry…" With that, he carefully started cleaning the wounds on my back. My first thought was to wrench away from the pain his gentle touch sent through me, but I forced myself to stay put. As my back was bandaged and the splint attached, I clenched my teeth to keep from making a sound to worry either of them.
When they laid me back down, I sighed with relief as the cold from the stone floor seeped through the bandages. Toris went back to work and the alcohol finally started kicking in, filling my mind with a light, numbing feeling. "Gil…thanks for the booze…" I mumbled through the fog taking over.
"No problem, kid," he said as Toris started cleaning up my arm. I felt him freeze, tense, and the feeling was soon copied by Gilbert. The room was a deathly quiet as Toris slowly started working again.
"I'm so sorry, (your name)…" Toris whispered. "You shouldn't have to go through this, let alone even be here…"
"Hey, Toris, don't wo-" I was cut off by Gilbert saying "Don't give us any of that 'don't worry' shit. He's right, there's no reason you should be here."
Quietly, Toris added "We're countries, we should be able to help… But we can't do anything to get you out… I'm sorry…"
"Stop apologizing… You're doing all you can, and you care, that's all that matters to me right now," I said, hoping to relieve some of their guilt.
"You think too much of us, kid," Gilbert muttered as he ruffled my hair. He slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around me, aware of how cold it would get in the small, stone room.
"You should get some rest now, we'll come back to check on you as much as we can," Toris said softly.
"Thanks you two…"I said drowsily. I listened to the light sounds of them leaving the room and walking back down the hallway as a light sleep started to take over, adding to the comforting numbness of the alcohol. Soon I was taken away from the pain and fear and slipped into a world of simple, blissful sleep…
