CLAUDE
MY HEAD THROBBED like it had been cracked open, the kind of ache that made it hard to think straight. Every nerve in my body was screaming, and the drip-drip-drip of water somewhere close only made it worse, each echo hitting like a hammer. My back ached where something cold and sharp pressed into it, scraping against bone, and no matter how I shifted, I couldn't find relief.
And my wrists—f**k. The sting of metal biting into my skin was enough to remind me I wasn’t going anywhere.
I tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. They felt heavy, like I’d been drugged. Voices buzzed around me, tangled and overlapping, but I couldn’t make out the words.
“Ya slyshal, on byl s bossom na tom korable. Dumayesh, on gey?”
“Zatkní svoy gryóbanyy rot. On prosypáetsya.”
Then on
