Reap the Earth at Which you Stand [boyxboy]

Chapter IV

~Wednesday 1st November 2017~

Dakota had been bitten, slashed, shot, even almost disembowelled, and yet nothing came close to the pain he experienced when he finally fought his way out of the darkness. It had taken considerable effort, and Dakota wasn't sure of the time that might have passed, if any had at all. He felt stuck, entangled in thick vines, held down and dragged back any time he got close to breaching the surface. And, then, he was suddenly free.

Light streamed into the room through the split in the curtains that had only been half-drawn, thankfully not hitting Dakota's face directly. Rather, it reflected off the mirror at the other side of the room, hitting the boy's eyes, making him squint as he attempted to collect his bearings. He had little trouble remembering the previous night, thanks to the agony in his torso keeping the memory fresh, however, that didn't mean there weren't blurred spaces where his mind hadn't retained the information he needed.

For one, Dakota didn't remember when Vasile left. He couldn't be sure that he was alone in the room, hence why he had yet to make any big movements. He wouldn't be able to remain silent, he would alert all around him to his conscious state, he had to be sure there was no one waiting to pounce before he made such a risk. Then again, it wasn't like Dakota could move at all without causing some form of pain, he just had to hope that whoever's attention he received was as merciful as Vasile had been. If the man could even be called such a thing.

"H-Hello?" Dakota's voice was almost non-existent, burning in his dry throat, mincing his words as he spoke. His eyes flicked around as much as possible, finding that there was a glass of water resting nicely on the bedside table, within arm's length, but likely not an easy task to reach. The mere thought of lifting his arm made Dakota grimace, which, of course, then worsened his pain as he agitated the wounds over his torso.

"Vasile?" Dakota tried, although his voice was weak enough that he wasn't even sure anyone else in the room would hear him. He waited with bated breath, wondering if Vasile might move into view, or at least make himself known, yet there was no sign of him. That didn't stop Dakota from counting to three hundred before he finally allowed himself to believe that he was alone there. Vasile had left, and whatever he had promised for the pain had clearly not been used. Great.

Dakota drew in a deep breath as he prepared to roll onto his back, chiding himself silently for being such a restless sleeper. He almost wished that Vasile had left the chains on his wrists, at least that might have prevented him from turning in his sleep and having to endure more pain than necessary. He counted to three under his breath, before rolling in one swift movement, and biting down on his tongue to the point of more blood coating the inside of his mouth.

Thankfully, the pain only seemed to worsen in the few seconds after the movement, before the sensation died down once again. Dakota, honestly, had no idea what state he was in. He knew he wasn't bleeding anymore, at least, but, other than that, he was in the dark. The pain in his mouth seemed to have died down too, but that didn't make much difference to Dakota. He was still stuck, in that bed, in a hotel he knew little about, in a part of the city that he hadn't frequented all too often. He had no idea of how to get any sort of help.

He couldn't just lie there for hours, hoping even that Vasile might return to aid him in any way, but there was no way to reach out to anyone else. Last Dakota remembered, he had thrown his phone onto the bedside table, and he certainly wouldn't be able to collect it without causing more agony. He was stuck. Trapped. Unable to call for help. And Dakota was beginning to panic.

"Breathe..." he murmured through trembling lips, seeing the edges of his vision cloud as tears pooled in his eyes, "just breathe, think..." Dakota tried his best to recall his conversations with Vasile the previous night, hoping to find some sort of snippet that might aid him even in the slightest. He didn't want him dead, he had said that, he didn't want to kill him, he didn't want to hurt him, so he couldn't have just left him to wither away. He must have thought to leave something close enough, either a phone or even some sort of pain killer. Anything.