Devil's Night

Depleted

Chris POV

"Beep, beep, beep beep. Ding!" The door disguised as a part of the white wall slid open.

I lifted my gaze up from my lap to see one of Rem's minions coming in with Ricky slumped over his wide shoulders. As soon as he put him down in the middle of the room, I rushed to my friend to aid him but what I saw when I came to his side was unforgettable and something I could never unsee. The minion, paying no attention to me sealed the door behind him as he left the space. I put both of my hands over my mouth in sheer dismay from observing his lifeless body, trying my best not to cry.

"Oh my fucking shit." He looked dreadful. His face was so pale and he looked more thin than before. It's only been a few days and his entire body was covered in blood, tears and this blue dirt like substance. Though he was wearing a shirt, his pants were stiff from the dried blood that must have been soaked at one point.

As carefully and gentle as I could I sat him up against chest, pulling the shirt off over his head and tossing it aside. When I pulled his hair back and took my first peak at the mess, I've have never been so close to throwing up in my life. Even though there wouldn't be much to vomit up, I was sick to my stomach at what I saw. I averted my eyes, turning my head away for a few moments to collect myself, but I knew that I had to address this before I could try and help him. Who could ever do such a reprehensible thing like this to another human being? Even Satan himself would refuse and censure the idea of doing anything just close to this atrocity.

I laid Ricky on his stomach and shuffled to grab the small bowl of water given to us in the corner of the room by the door. One bowl a day for whoever was in here was the only thing we had keeping us alive or from passing out from dehydration. Though I needed to drink, this was far more important and it was worth being parched to help Ricky. I took off my own shirt and tore it in half. Saving one half for another emergency in my pocket and using the other to try and clean the wounds.

I let it soak for a minute or so in the water before pressing it against his mutilated flesh. As soon as it made contact an angry and sour hiss errupted from Ricky.

"Ahhh! Please, enough!" He shrieked but his voice too hoarse to really scream but it wasn't hard to see how painful this was for him.

I placed my hand over his mouth to calm him down. "Shhh. Easy now. It's me, Chris."

He immediately relaxed, looking as if he was going to black out again and I went on cleaning him up.

Every time I refiled and reapplied the cloth to his skin, his hands would clench into tight fists at his sides. He'd breathe fast, in and out to get himself to cope with the sting. After an hour or so, he began get used to the feeling and his flesh began to fade from bright inflamed red to a typical skin tone for someone who got sunburned.

Though his body looked better from when I first laid eyes on it, that isn't to say that it looked good or healed in any way. Once I finished washing him to the best of my abilities, I helped him sit up against the wall but a surge of guilt soon overcame me from seeing Ricky's reaction. Placing his palms flat on the floor with his arms at a right angle, looking like he was about to do a pushup, he lifted himself up on his own. Getting up seemed to make everything worse and he would groan and whimper from discomfort. I hated the fact that I was making him go through this, he's already been hurt plenty enough. I move myself closer to him, offering my assistance to help him get up but he turned away letting me know that he had this.

"No. It's okay. I am fine." He assured me in a raspy voice as he began to get up. But he fell back to his chest, uncontrollably coughing and hacking. 

He struggled to maintain his position when finally got himself on his hands and knees. His arms shaking beneath him as he did his best to get to the wall. It pained me to see him in such a tormented state, I wanted to cry when I watched him go though this. He told me not to worry about him but we both knew damn well that he was so far from okay. After about 20 minutes of watching this heartbreaking shit show, he finally managed to scoot himself up against the wall facing me but looking completely depleted of energy afterwards.

I sat cross legged next of him to keep him company but I didn't even know he could even see me there. He closed his eyes, trying to get some rest but every once in awhile he'd gasp and cry out from when his body adjusted itself out of it's complete stillness. I tried to get my mind off of those gruesome wounds that began to dry on the wall but I just stared at him the entire time.

 I stared at his still beautiful face that gave me a warm feeling but every time he'd wake up from his body shifting, that admiration for him turned into worry.  I lowered my head and began to study myself. My hands were getting more boney and when I rubbed my shoulders, I knew that I was losing weight and fast. If I don't die from torture they plan to put me through, I will surely starve instead. That's what Rem wanted. Though Ricky told me that Rem refused to kill us in the moment, that doesn't mean he didn't have a problem doing it slowly through not feeding us or dehydration. Though I knew I lost quite a bit, when I took a look back at Ricky, he was in a more undernourished state than I was.

His cheeks were more hollow, and his cheekbones far more defined than usual. His eyes bulged out a bit looking tired and bloodshot with dark circles under them. He looked completely dazed and glazed over, empty and broken. The poor thing was horribly exhausted and how could he not be? We both haven't eaten for over a week and since our last meal before we got to the concert venue, wasn't even a full meal. Just some energy drinks and chips from Seven Eleven. He look way more sick than I did and I just wondered what was it. Stress? Getting the shit wiped out of him? His metabolism? I figured it had to be all of those factors. While I looked like I lost 10 he probably lost 20 pounds. I let out a weak sigh and for the rest of the time I just watched him as he'd fade in between being awake and blacking out. Eventually I fell asleep but I wanted to punch myself in the face for leaving him like that. It soon seemed impossible to stay up without drifting off but I wanted to protect him at all costs and I didn't want to wake up, only to look and he's not there. That was scary enough the last time and if I could, I would avoid having to go through that experience again.