Page 86 of His Favorite Color is Blood
“It’s all your fault ... you ... groomed me for him,” he uttered in a raspy voice, and he might have as well thrown a stone into Misha’s face.
Misha swallowed hard, overcome with guilt so thick he could choke on it. “I-I’m so sorry. I was forced to do this. I had no choice ...”
“Everyone has a choice,” hissed Dennis, refusing to look at Misha.
Misha rubbed his face and took a shuddery breath as memories rolled in front of his eyes like a snuff film. “He took me almost five years ago. I only escaped a few weeks back.”
Dennis stirred and slowly looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide. “Five years?” It was barely more than a gasp.
Misha didn’t want to lose control again, but without Grim to hold him together, he was crumbling apart like a sand castle during the tide. He sobbed, and more tears streamed down his cheeks. “H-he took my legs. I was so scared ... I’m sorry ... I have nothing that I can offer you but this ... you have no idea how much I wanted to tell you to run, but each of our conversations was monitored. I couldn’t ... I really ...”
Dennis shook his head, visibly deflated. “Fuck ... I need air ... This is ... too much ...”
Misha wheeled over, desperate to offer any help he could. It would at least take his mind off Grim and the fact that he was still in danger. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah,” muttered Dennis and dragged himself to his feet. They were bare, one traced with red, but Misha had no shoes to offer Dennis.
“They locked those doors behind them,” Misha said, wheeling to the same exit Grim had used as he left.
Dennis took the flashlight and went first, rocking to the sides, as if he couldn’t stand the pain of a normal gait. Misha winced but followed him without a word, spooked out by a shape that threw a tangled shadow on the wall. It was some kind of old-fashioned medical bed, still covered by sheets. There was a lot of trash lying in the room they entered next, from contemporary candy wrappers to old shoes, but with the prevalence of the white metal furniture, Misha was beginning to understand this was some kind of abandoned hospital.
He didn’t share his suspicions with Dennis, too spooked already. At least the fear of seeing shadows of patients who died here several decades ago took his mind off Grim. His man was possibly still somewhere in the building, up against two armed men and the most twisted of monsters. No matter how much Misha believed in him, fear was growing inside his body, fueled by the echo of Dennis’s feet and the ghostly rubble all around. He exhaled as they walked through another door and entered one of the grand corridors that led straight to the main entrance. He licked his lips and wheeled toward the hall that he could already see at a distance.
The shadows of metal bars streaked the floor as he followed Dennis, who supported his weight by the wall, walking with even more strain. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, and judging by the numerous bruises on his torso, it was possible his ribs were broken, and Misha wanted to have him see a doctor as soon as possible.
He was queasy at the thought of just entering the hall. Something inside his head was telling him that there was a sniper waiting for them, ready to blow their brains all over the wall, but Dennis didn’t share his sentiment and all but ran toward the door. He pushed the handle down and pulled, but the huge door stayed closed.
He stared at it, then pushed, and then pulled again, eventually yanking it back and forth, and yet it wouldn’t budge. Dennis’s wide, frightened eyes looked back at Misha. “You sure those are the ones? They’re locked ...”
Misha’s brain was overheating, but as he looked around, at the empty reception area, at the familiar twin corridors, and the small door to the ballroom, all he could do was nod. “Yes, that’s the one.”
Dennis looked as if he wanted to say something but dropped to the floor and cowered when several gunshots resonated somewhere in the building. Misha melted into the chair, his throat gone dry within a split second. In that moment, he regretted ever telling Grim that he absolutely needed to have Zero killed.
“F-fuck,” uttered Dennis, shuddering uncontrollably as he cuddled up against the door.
“Upstairs,” whispered Misha, the spooky shadows completely forgotten. There was nothing real about them. The possibility of Grim getting hurt, on the other hand, was painfully real.
“We need to find a way out ... all those windows are blocked,” whimpered Dennis and looked around, his breath coming in short gasps. “You go left, and I go right.”
Misha stiffened, but before he could protest, Dennis pulled himself up, shaking his head. “No. No, let’s keep together. I don’t want to be alone. Fuck,” he hissed and slammed his fist against the door.
Misha nodded and quickly led the way along the corridor across from the one they walked through earlier. “Let’s keep to the outermost wall. This is a massive building, there must be many exits,” he said, trying to chase away the fear nibbling away his sanity. Grim was a professional. He’d been in worse situations and prevailed. Misha would only be a hindrance to him.
They rushed down the walkway, looking into rooms, some of them cluttered with old medical supplies, others completely empty. Just like Misha suspected, they found other exits, but they were all either blocked with bricks or locked, and neither of them had the capacity to even attempt to break through by force.
He had no idea how long they ran through the maze of rooms, chased by shadows and whispers of the old building. With every single window closed with thick bars, they were like lab rats trapped in the labyrinth, chasing after a goal that seemed farther away with each passing minute. With Misha’s head pulsing and ready to explode, his mind was starting to play tricks on him. Shadows moved in the same way Zero did. He was the Minotaur toying with his prey before he could ravage it in his underworld kingdom.
Then, everything came to a halt when something thundered high above Misha’s head. The walls around them shook, and it was almost as if the impending end of the world was finally here.
Chapter 27
Grim
Grim still had thescent of Zero’s cologne in his nostrils when he darted for the the corridor where Zero disappeared with his men. The memory of that monster’s hands roaming all over Misha’s delicate stumps made him itch for blood, but he knew that if he had acted on his instincts, Misha, Dennis, and he would have been dead now.
All the time when he had to stand there and watch Misha lose it was like having to withstand needles pushed under his fingernails. He was proud of Misha though for making as little commotion as he could and not outright panicking. He took all that suffering like a man, and the payback Zero was about to receive would be satisfaction for him as much as for Grim.
The maze of rooms and corridors made all of Grim’s senses sharpen so he could track his prey more efficiently. A soft clang of footsteps came from above when Grim was passing a staircase, and he dashed that way, quiet in his soft-soled shoes.
