Chapter Text
Heavy breathing—deep, labored—followed by a rough cough every now and then. It was an older man. That wasn’t hard to figure out from the sounds he was making.
Then there was the smell. Cigarette smoke, stale and thick in the air. That alone explained the coughing. It also told me something else.
It was just me and him in the room.
Nothing was happening. Not yet.
So I turned my attention inward.
Everything felt dulled, like my senses had been wrapped in something heavy. A low ringing sat in my ears, faint at first, but persistent. It carried a dull ache with it, something that throbbed quietly at the back of my head. The cloth over my eyes didn’t help. It was tied tight—too tight—and only made the pressure more noticeable.
Still manageable. It was always manageable.
There was also the rope. Tight around my wrists, digging into skin that was already raw.
I took a slow breath in.
Hold.
One… two… three… four.
Out.
One… two… three… four.
Hold again.
Repeat.
Five hours.
It had been five hours since I arrived here.
My back burned like I had been laid in a fire ant nest. It started at my shoulders, spread downward, then curled around my sides, settling deep into my core. Constant. Relentless.
Breathe in.
Hold.
Count.
Out.
Hold.
Again.
A quiet huff slipped out of me before I could stop it. Small. Controlled. But in the silence of the room, it might as well have been a shout.
It drew his attention.
Something struck the back of my head.
Sharp. Immediate.
The ringing in my ears spiked, rising fast, swallowing everything else. The man laughed—at least, I think he did. His voice followed, rough and low, but I couldn’t make out the words. The ringing drowned him out.
Then—
Movement.
More than one set of hands now. Two, maybe three. Rough grips on my shoulders, my arms, holding me in place.
Their?
There were more people in the room.
The ringing shifted—higher now, sharper—but somehow dull at the same time. Like it had settled into the background, constant and unyielding.
Another breath.
In. Hold. Count.
Out. Hold.
Voices, suddenly closer. Louder. Angry, judging from the tone. Yelling something I still couldn’t understand.
I stayed quiet.
I needed to stay quiet.
Why?
The thought flickered, brief and unwelcome.
Why do I need to stay quiet?
Pain answered instead.
It spread across my back—hot, precise. I could trace it without seeing it. Starting at my right shoulder, dragging down in a diagonal line, ending somewhere near my left hip.
I focused on my breathing.
In. Hold. Count. Out. Hold.
That’s all I needed to do.
Another strike—this time across my face. Sharp. A burst of light behind closed eyes. Then warmth. Wetness trailing downward.
Something was poured over me.
The burn came immediately after.
A muffled sound escaped me, barely there.
Breathe.
In. Hold. Count. Out. Hold.
The ringing climbed again. Higher. Louder. Too much.
It swallowed everything.
Until it didn’t.
The sound shifted—flattened—steady.
Familiar.
My alarm.
Then I opened my eyes.