Freedom didn’t feel terribly free. Dr. Mynatt had been more than generous with Yuri. She had treated his arm, which had involved breaking it again, set it in a cast and put him on a regiment of at least four prescription medications. She even put him up in her own house, to the chagrin of Dr. Mynatt’s husband. Honestly, Yuri suspected it was just cheaper that putting him in the hospital.
Yuri hated his room in Dr. Mynatt’s home. It was small, white walled, with a narrow bed. It reminded him of his cell. Being reminded of his cell reminded him of his abandonment of Mischa. Some of those pills Dr. Mynatt gave him helped him forget that cell. Naturally, he took more of the pills that took away his pain, his memories and his thoughts. In his time of lucidity, he was torn. Obligation wanted him to go to the police, report Horowitz for his horrors, and send them to the prison to liberate Mischa. He’d tried it already, twice. He’d been dismissed as a delusional addict, and put in a holding cell until Mr. Mynatt came to free him. Yuri was not capable of showing his gratitude, and Mynatt was not happy for the money, time or effort Yuri had cost him.
Yuri thought of returning to Russia, his home. He hadn’t tried to use his gift for weeks, it was hard to concentrate with some of the drugs coursing through his mind. Just the same, he was still fairly sure both Elijah and Viktoriya were still in Russia. He just had to get there. If he could get to Moscow, Yuri could stumble on to the Prizrak Rytsarya base. He could be identified as himself by documents on file at time of his enlistment. From there he’d send a Spetsgruppa back to this place to rescue Mischa, capture Horowitz and try him for his crimes. He’d probably spend the rest of his days in a hospital under watch of nurses, but maybe he’d get to see Anton again.
Another thought in his mind told Yuri that both of these plans were useless. These thoughts called him to darkness, to death. He was on an island in the Indian Ocean. He was an unfathomable distance from anyone that could help him. He was beyond any usefulness to anyone, here or home. He was a monster that killed without remorse. A shell of a human, without any humanity inside. Yuri had become something from a child’s tale, something to fear. He was a servant of Baba Yaga. He was Koschei the Deathless. He begged for an end that would not come, and in his wake spread misery.
There was a thread of that thought that pulled him back to reality. Koschei. It was a story he’d been told as a child, and a joke that had been made for years during his service under Mischa, due to the many hardships his captain faced without death. The title had been transferred to Elijah after his first accident, when Horowitz attacked him. Those thoughts of brought him back to Elijah. Thoughts of Elijah brought guilt. He thought of Mischa. More guilt. He thought of Anton. Anton, whom never came looking for Yuri. Anton, whom likely profited from his brother’s presumed death. Thoughts of Anton brought anger. He still feared the guards or Horowitz himself would find Yuri in Saint-Denis and kill him. Fear, guilt and anger were treated with more pills. With more pills the whispers that called to him death came louder.
Despite Dr. Mynatt’s advice, Yuri drank. He drank a lot. The alcohol gave his dark thoughts volume. The alcohol removed any good judgment. It told him to ask Dr. Mynatt for his pistol back, or at least his knife. It told him how anything in his view could be used as a weapon against his life. Alcohol made Mr. Mynatt’s patience with Yuri run out. Mr. Mynatt had a deep anger in his eyes when he looked at Yuri. That anger would lead to violence if time allowed. Alcohol took Yuri out of the safety of the Mynatt’s’ home, and lured him out in to the streets.
Yuri was once again in some place he didn’t know. There was brown, dying grass. It was walled in. There was a modest one story house in front of him. It had a small patio. No, he had been here before. And that was more dangerous than if he’d innocently gotten lost. A woman appeared in the back door, sliding it open. She was dressed in a robe, holding it closed. Her coarse dark hair was wet. She must have seen him from a bathroom window. How long had he been in her yard? How had he even gotten into her yard again? Those green eyes burned with rage.
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Looking For The Light (Book 2)
ParanormalElijah's life has been thrown for a loop. His girlfriend left him, he's leaving his home behind, and setting off into the unknown. Doubting his mission and himself, the young telepath struggles with many of the great questions of life.
