And fuck, it isn’t cold anymore.
My room is still dark, and for once, I’m not finding solace in oblivion. Another comforting find is something soft under my head. With my hands, I travel up to my head, and I’m stunned.
I’m sleeping on a fucking pillow.
Wait, what the fuck is happening here? Am I that sleep-deprived that I’m imagining something as simple as a pillow?
I squeeze it three more times, and I know I’m not hallucinating.
Slowly, I sit up straight, with my back against the wall.
I bring my knees up and balance my arms on them, while I hold my head between my hands. I’m feeling more rested, which gives me the time to feel angry all over again.
Images of Lana being shot are burned into my brain, and the overwhelming sadness is excruciating. I love her so much, and I will make sure to avenge her.
“I will murder everyone for you, Lana.” I throw my head back and breathe in and out.
“Leon, you will burn for what you have done to your daughter. Mark my fucking words.” Before I can ponder my words, the lights flicker on. The bright light is hurting my eyes. But what I do see is a lanky man coming toward me.
“What is this?” I ask Emin as he sets a tray full of nutritious food in front of me. I need this.
What I see before me is a mirage.
A bowl of chicken soup, mashed potatoes, a small portion of grilled chicken, and a tall glass of lukewarm water. The moment I take a sip of the warm water, I instantly feel replenished. The chicken soup is out of this world.
The warm liquid is not only blessing my mouth, throat, and belly, but it’s coursing through my veins. It’s amazing what a good meal after a couple of days of torture will do.
Minutes pass by, and my meal is gone. I push the tray toward Emin’s feet, and he bends down to pick up the glass. Once he is back up, he studies the glass with intent and smirks.
Oh, no.
He lifts his head, and his eyes follow. He is good, I’ll give him that.
Before I can say something, he throws the glass with full force at my head. My eyes follow the glass, and I quickly dodge it before it shatters against the wall. When I look back at Emin, I see him amused.
Dare I say, satisfied?
“What the fuck are you so happy about?” I ask him. He crosses his arms and clicks with his tongue.
“I’m glad your reflexes are still good. So, here’s the deal. Since you haven’t told us where your daddy dearest is, you are going to do something.”
“What? I told you a million times, I don’t know where my father is.”
“I have been told that you hate lying, so let us put that to the test. Shall we?” My face remains emotionless, but my anger is brewing. Emin continues spewing bullshit.
“Our master doesn’t believe in fighting someone when they are down. When they are not full of strength.”
“Your master sounds reasonable. Does he see me as a fair opponent?” My tone is flat.
Emin shakes his head. “Don’t flatter yourself. Our master only wants an equal fight.” My interest is piqued. Lana’s dad is an evil cunt for killing his daughter, but I respect that he wants me strong.
“So, what is going to happen now?” Lanky man’s sideways smile is back.
“You have a week to get your strength up. Train, sleep, eat, take a dump, I don’t give a shit. We want you strong after a week.”
“What will happen then?” He turns his back to me and starts walking toward the door. With his back turned to me, he glances over his shoulder.
“Our master will happen.”
