You can read part 1 HERE…
Paulie’s tongue worked inside his mouth in slow motion. It wouldn’t work right. His brain was telling it to move but it was a stubborn beat behind. His face was numb. There was no strength in his neck. When he tried to lift his head it felt like it weighed a fucking ton, heavy rock on a neck that didn’t work.
Every breath he took felt like a saw was slowly drawing through his body. Short breaths, long breaths, it didn’t matter. He needed to breathe but something wasn’t working inside him. And his tongue worked but his mouth didn’t want to move.
Willpower kept his head from rolling forward. The room was too dark-lit. The light bulb came off fake and imposing and Paulie didn’t want to be caught with his head down if anyone came into the room. His head swam a little and the room went fuzzy and he pulled it up and it cracked into the wall behind him. His body jumped and reminded him that his wrists and ankles were raw from the ropes and chains that bound him. His right cheek hurt and that eye felt swollen, but he could still see.
The pain reminded Paulie that he’d woken up before. Pain was a reminder that he’d struggled and gotten nowhere and he was chained and tied to a chair that was bolted to the floor. He thought he remembered being hit but didn’t trust it. His head was swimming.
Memories wanted to come back but they were jjuusssst out of reach. Flashes of light and men and being dragged on the fringes of his brain. Paulie stared into the ambiguous yellow light and tried, but nothing came.
He tongued the inside of his mouth again and realized he hadn’t felt anything because his tongue was swollen. Once past this mental block, Paulie could feel the broken teeth. Past the swollen tongue, he could taste the dirty metal blood in his mouth.
His eyes wouldn’t focus on the yellow light. When he looked up at the dirty yellow bulb, he felt the back of his head and hair grind against the rough, cold wall. The bulb made him squint and brought back some senses. The squint made him squirm in his seat and he felt… something… in the seat of his pants.
The smell of piss and fresh shit filled his nose and brought back the haze. Paulie tried to keep his eyes open as he dry heaved. There was nothing in his stomach and he felt it go nearly inside out and his bones cut at him from the inside.
“How long have I been here,” he said. He tried to say. The words came out cracked and soft and unintelligible. The sound of it frightened him. They were hissed back-of-the-throat words.
The dirty yellow and black room filled his eyes while the shit and piss filled his nose. He wanted to say more but his tongue was too big and when he inhaled he could feel his broken teeth and taste the shit in the air through the blood in his mouth.
Days, I’ve been here for days, he thought. The voice in his head sounded like his own but it had lost all of its confidence. A broken tooth snagged on the inside of his cheek and he winced, making the chain and ropes bite into his ragged skin.
Deep in the yellow room, Paulie heard something. The something was faint but it was there and not his broken and beat up imagination. He tried to stare past the dim yellow into the cold darkness but he saw nothing.
Someone’s there, he thought. God, no, someone’s watching me.