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Nikolai has been sleeping horrible next to having hallucinations day after day. It all varied what he perceived – sometimes a choir whispering incoherent things into his ears, wet flesh squelching and bones scratching the walls, bugs crawling underneath his skin, fingers with sharp pointy nails scraping at his back. Over the clothes, in public, anywhere he was, anytime whether it was night or day.
Creatures that reach his waist wearing white lab coats with a fox-like gasmask, looking at him as though they were studying the poor man. It normally were about three, Valery, Vasily and Vsevolod is what he called them. Cute, somehow, since from time to time they stumbled around, squeaked and fooled with each other.
A rather big, rodent-like, creature with horns of a mountain goat scurried about, the large and adorable eyes sometimes gazed at Nikolai with curiosity. It didn’t visit that often and therefore didn’t have a name yet. Though he made the mistake of watching when it turned; the head vanished into the back to form a white blob only to be ripped apart where once the stomach was. And out came a grey, hellish looking beast with red eyes and antlers that could pierce anyone up. Nikolai pressed himself into the corner of his room and curled up into a tiny ball, as tiny as he could.
But that didn’t last long when he felt those hands grasping his waist. Long, thin and bony fingers that squished his body and he yelped and struggled helplessly.
Misha. That’s what he called it.
A large human was clad in a black coat, with a hat like the jester’s and a white scarf, and he crawled out of his cloak to sit down in front of him. There was no expression; no mouth that smiled or opened to scream at him, no nose that scrunched, no brows. Just a large eye that seemingly stuck to a black cylinder that was between the big hat and voluminous scarf.
Despite the lacking features it could talk, surprisingly enough. Though none of what he said was kind – it did nothing but worsen his paranoia of people wanting to hurt him.
“And what about him,” it pointed to the door with a tilt of its head.
“Fedya, no, not dear Fedya. He wouldn’t… would he?”
Nikolai is shivering and trembling in fear, sweat rolling down his temple. Fedya won’t use him like that, Fedya makes sure that Nikolai is in good hands. Is what he keeps on telling himself over and over again but now that Misha is here, now that Misha persistently asks, he begins to question him as well. And it’s not slow, it comes crashing down on him with the might of an avalanche and the paranoia swept in, seeping into every nook and cranny.
The fear wraps around his throat like Misha’s fingers, gradually tightening the grip and cutting off the oxygen. Gasping, yelping and whimpering for air he gazes up at the being with wide eyes, a shocked expression and red skin. Yes, he thought, yes, my dear Fedya… he uses me, then discards me like I’m nothing.
Neither death nor life were appealing to him in this moment; would it make things better if he were to cease by this demon’s hands? Would Fedya even notice the absence of his noisiness, would he notice the strangled corpse in the room, would he even look?
Surely not, a voice in his head loudly exclaims and his body goes limp.
“But… if Fedya uses me… then I want to use him, too…”
Nikolai chokes out with his remaining consciousness keeping him awake and the demon retreats his hands at once. The jester takes deep and heavy breaths, coughs and wipes the saliva away. He would have to make an effort to hide the bruises. Yes, the two of them will play a game – if his dearest Fedya can do it, then so can he.
“What makes you so sure that you will win?”
“I won’t,” he replies and sits up to lean against the wall and Misha mirrored him, sitting against the wall. “But I can bring him down with me.”
Valery approaches him and hands him a scrap of paper with a drawing on it. Strange stick figures and signs are scribbled on it but Nikolai smiles and pats his head carefully, the hand shook but so did his whole body. Both from excitement and adrenaline.
It will be a fun game, won’t it?