Closing Time

62.

I woke up cold.

My body was freezing. They'd gotten rid of the coat I'd been wearing, and the short dress under it provided me with no protection.

My face also hurt. It felt hot and tight, crusty from the dried blood. It was a dull, throbbing pain I woke up to. Trying to open my mouth stretched the cut on my lip. I could taste fresh blood again. My vision was impaired, right eye dealing with resistance as I tried to open it. My left opened fine. That must have been a very strong left hook.

I tried to lift my head, feeling pain shoot down my neck and back. There was a stiffness in it's movements. A resistance that only came from being stuck in a position like that for several hours.

Gritting my teeth to stifle my groans, I slowly raised my head, feeling my bones audibly grate against each other. The popping sounds echoed in my ear as I turned my head this way and that. I moved slowly this time as I finally looked around the place. I hadn't been able to see much in general the last time I was awake. But this time, I couldn't see much because it was dark and dimly lit.

We were in some kind of warehouse. High ceilings, rusted metal beams and cracked skylights. I could hear rustling feathers. Birds were nesting up there. This might be an abandoned factory. I remembered hearing about those when I'd arrived in town.

A cold breeze brushed my bare legs, drawing attention to the missing doors on the other side of this place. The distance between freedom and this chair seemed far. Almost impossible to attain considering how tight I was bound to this chair. The coarse rope had already cut into my skin. And I wasn't sure if my limbs were cold because of the breeze or because my circulation was being cut off.

Considering how sadistically happy Sylvia had seemed while beating my face into pulp, I would be surprised if it was the latter.

"Evening, Ryleigh." Lou's voice was rough. It sounded similar to the rasp Mike had when I'd woken up. "Nice breeze outside."

Turning my head to the right, I met Lou's eyes. My eyesight was adjusting to the dark now, and he looked much worse for wear. "I c-can see that." I couldn't stop my speech from stuttering. My teeth were chattering. "Hunters g-got your t-tongue?"

"Yes." He grinned at me, dark eyes shining and voice calm as if he was talking to me over a counter. "Angel grew his back." I could see the dried blood on his chin.

"Through considerable effort." I barely heard Mike mumble. Even Lou was whispering. "How do you feel?"

"F-fine." I replied, a strong shudder passing through my body. I couldn't say how shit I was actually feeling. Compared to these two, I'd been let off easy. "S-sorry it took me so-so long to find you, Mike."

"You're not obligated to look for me or worry about me."

"You're m-my friend. Of-of course, I'll worry about you." I tried to lean forward, these ropes had no give in them. "H-how are you? I di-didn't get to see you."

"Trust me. You don't want to." Mike sighed. Lou nodded grimly.

"I-I want to." I stifled a groan as I felt the rope cut into my shoulders. "I want-t to see."

I could see some of Mike. I could see his bowed head, the golden hair on top. I could some of his side profile and how dark it seemed here. He didn't seem good.

"Ryleigh." Lou called out my name, drawing my eyes to him. "Look at me first, and then decide if you want to see the feather's condition."

Look at Lou? I frowned, meeting his eyes. He seemed serious. Very serious. My eyes were drawn downwards to the rest of his body out of a morbid sense of curiosity. But the more I saw, the more I regretted waking up.