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AWS - NUL' Vol 1 Issue 01 “SERVED COLD”

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 “SERVED COLD”

 

 

 

The snow crunched under heavy boots, the sound making his teeth hurt. Casimir tried to move his head even though the pain in his brain was unbearable his eyes shed tears which froze as they rolled across his face. Something popped in his neck the wave of agony would have made him cry out if he could have. But he couldn’t he was broken, they hadn’t thrown him out here to die, he was already dead it was just taking his body time to realize and catch up to the process. No they had thrown him out here to be found as a warning. They just hadn’t ben expecting him to be found so soon.

Their mistake.

The crunch of the ice stopped. Casimir forced an eye open, only one, the other was frozen shut. The pain in his head was fading, his body numb, but even his breathing was easier. Was this what death felt like?

He saw a boot, a heavy well-worn work boot dirty with the slush of the mud and snow. “So, what do we have here?” The voice was heavily accented Russian, Casimir placed it as from Siberia, not that he had ever been there but he knew several thugs with roots from that desolate region. He tried to move his head and it worked this time. He looked up and saw a very large man with a full beard and short hair, well groomed, piercing icy blue eyes. The man’s clothes, aside from the old boots, were fashionable and expensive, his large hands showed several golden rings on thick fingers. Casimir thought that the man glowed until he crouched down and the sun which had been behind him nearly blinded Casimir. “I do not think you are done yet.”

The big man reached out and touched Casimir’s forehead and blackness engulfed the young criminal.

The man stood and then picked up Casimir like the boy weighed no more than a sack of potatoes then with him thrown over his shoulder carried him back to a waiting, idling car. He put Casimir into the back seat then went around to the passenger side opened the door and got in. He looked over at the driver a squat dark man of Mongolian decent who was watching him but said nothing. “He will live but he is not finished yet. Take us to the dacha.”

Spoiler

The Man  3a6be5d4355a6e29aa395f66343ac3c2.jpg

 

 

Casimir opened his eyes he felt…wonderful. There was no pain, no agony, life flowed through his veins and he felt…powerful. He was in a bed, the sheets were blue silk, the room looked rustic but expensively rustic. The door opened and a fat woman in a dress came in and stopped when she saw that he was awake, she was carrying a cardboard box. She smiled at him. “Good afternoon. It is nice for you to finally awake. I wager you are very hungry.”

As if on cue Casimir’s stomach growled.

 

 

Spoiler

This is Cassimir's thread... it is your origin and takes place after you were left for dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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He sat up, one hand checking his chest before he glanced down, noting the three pink puckered scars where before had been bullet wounds.  A quick inventory of his aches and pains revealed... nothing.  His kneecaps were whole and un-drilled, his feet and hands were as new as though a hammer had not been taken to them, and his face...

He got out of the bed, heedless of his undress as he crossed to a full-length mirror and peered in.  His face was whole, unburned... handsome as ever.  No, not as ever - he seemed different now.  He peered closer, trying to see what exactly differed, but could not place his finger on any one thing.  His hair seemed more lustrous, his skin flawless, his dark eyes gleamed with inner mystery.  It was as though he had been perfected somehow, becoming the ideal of his own previous vanity.

Aware of the woman watching him, the cardboard box still in her hands, he turned and stepped back over to the bed, wrapping a sheet around his lower half for her sake before sitting.

"Apologies, good mother." he murmured in Russian, studying her anew.  "I am starving, of course.  Can I ask where I am?"

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