OUBLIETTE

Moskalev Manor

LUKAS KOVÁČ

I'm jolted awake by the feeling of a blunt instrument against my midriff. I yelp in pain but my voice is muffled by a rag that's pulled between my teeth and tied securely behind my head. There are two grown men in the room with me; one is crouching down behind the chair, untying my wrists and upper body while the other is squatting down in front of me, untying my legs and ankles. Before I get to rub my benumbed wrists, the man who crouched down behind me quickly grabs a pair of hinged handcuffs from his belt and then cuffs my wrists together firmly behind my back. They force me to stand up on my good leg and then drag me out of the room by my arms. I cry out in agony as my wounded leg hits the ground. They continue their steady slow pace as if my muffled scream means nothing to them. Who am I kidding, it does mean nothing to them. In fact, they probably enjoy hearing it. Tears roll down the sides of my face like heavy rain. I close my eyes shut and bite through the gag, hoping none of this is real.

We finally come to a stop. I open both of my eyes and squints. Parked right before us is a black limousine. One of the men reaches forward and opens the door. Once the door is wide opened, the other one throws me into the backseat of the car. I let out a scream upon impact. I want to ask them where we're going, but the agonizing pain in my wounded leg overpowers me.

One of the men sits right next to me. As soon as the man sits next to me I scoot away from him just half an inch, and to my horror, he notices and grabs my arm. He uses his other hand to reach for something in his jacket; an injection syringe.

I let out a shriek as the man injects me in the thigh. I wonder what drug he gave me; whatever it is, it's already in my system, and there is nothing I can do about it.

"Would you scream your lungs out if I took the gag off?" the man suddenly asks.

I shake my head.

"Wise choice." He replies as he takes my nasty gag off.

"W-what was that?"

"Morphine."

"For the pain." The other man adds.

I heave a sigh of relief and then continue, "W-where are we going?"

"Moskalev Manor." After a moment of silence the man continues, "Better keep your mouth shut and get some rest while you still can."

"W-what do you mean by that?"

"Thought I told you to keep your mouth shut!"

I look away and stare into the abyss, drown by the opulent comfort of the car.

In order to earn my freedom, I need to gain their trust. And in order to win their trust, I have to find a way to put on a façade to make them see me as an acquiescent individual with a compliant nature. That way they won't see me as a threat, and when the time is right, I will make a run for it.

***

I can't help myself but hold my breath as the car comes to a stop. Before I can fully take in the manor's majestic grandeur of the architecture, the man quickly puts the gag back on and then puts a hood over my head.

"Watch your step, boy!" One of the men murmurs as I carefully step out of the car. I wonder why they're acting less violent toward me this time- not that I miss being treated poorly, but I find this sudden act of benevolence rather uncanny.

I wobble, and one of the men grabs my upper arm to steady me while the other holds my other arm firmly until I regain my balance, and then they help me walk on one leg for as fast as my broken body can tolerate. I try my hardest not to put my weight on my wounded leg, but it's much more difficult than I imagined.