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15. Ruslan

The hot water hits my skin, and for a moment, I just stand there, letting it cascade over me, washing away the grime, blood and sweat that’s been clinging to me for God knows how long.

It feels... strange. To be in a shower. To be clean again. After weeks of being chained up in that cell, it’s almost surreal. The steam rises around me, filling the small bathroom with warmth, and I can feel my muscles slowly start to relax.

I lean my head back, closing my eyes, letting the water run down my face. My body aches, every part of me stiff from being confined for so long, but the heat is helping. I can feel the tension melting away, bit by bit, the tightness in my chest easing. It’s the first time I’ve felt anything close to comfort in what feels like forever.

But even as I try to relax, there’s this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. I’m not really free. Not yet. I might be out of the cell, but I’m still a prisoner. The barrier around the cabin makes sure of that. No running. No esca
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