From Yuri with love, Part VII
He was in a small, stuffy cell which he didn’t recognize. Vasily Petrovich looked around nervously. He didn’t remember how he got there. Was it some form of a punishment? He gulped, his anxiety rising as he realized he was completely alone—
clank! clank!
The strange soung made him turn his head sharply, just in time to see the man standing on the other side of his cell. Surikov was smiling at him, baring his teeth with apparent satisfaction. The metal baton in his hand was repeatedly hitting the bars, louder and louder.
Vasya tried to cover his ears only to realize his hands were bound. Water dripping from his hair was getting into his eyes, making his vision blurred. He tried to see the man whose loud, derisive laughter filled his head, but all he noticed with a sense of alarm was his wet, bare body.
clank! clank!
Why the hell was he naked...?
Vasya opened is eyes.
Yuri Ivanovich was there.
Yuri Ivanovich was there, his warm, smiling eyes looking right at him, the weird clanking noise coming from the metal cup he was hitting with a spoon just above Vasya’s head. The light coming through a small window, mixed with the dust in the air, formed a halo of sorts around Yuri’s graying head, which caused his brain to come up with the strangest question, the eerie fantasy.
„Am I dead?”
An ironic half smile turned his dream into prison reality.
„As a politician – yes,” came the angel’s dry reply.
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