5. Ruslan

The chains bite into my wrists, burning like fire as the silver seeps into my skin. My arms feel like dead weight, hanging uselessly above me, held up only by the restraints that have become a part of me now. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been here. Days? Weeks? Time doesn’t exist in this cell. There’s only the darkness, the endless ache in my body, and the gnawing emptiness where food and water used to be.

I try to remember when I last ate, but the memory slips away, lost in the fog of pain. My mouth is dry, my throat raw, but even the need for water has faded into something dull and distant. 

It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing does. The only thing I can feel now is the burn of the silver and the weight of my past pressing down on me.

I close my eyes, letting the darkness swallow me. Maybe if I concentrate hard enough, I can disappear. But even in the dark, the memories come.

Mina. Mila.

I see their faces so clearly, so full of life and laughter. The way Mina would chase Mila around the fields, her long hair flying behind her, both of them laughing like the world was theirs to own. We were happy once. We had everything. We were a family.

And then it all came crashing down.

The images flash through my mind, too fast, too painful to bear. Andrei’s face, twisted with cruelty, watching me as he… No. I can’t think about that. I can’t.

But it doesn’t stop. It never stops. The memories of that day replay over and over again, like a punishment I can never escape. Mina’s screams. Mila’s broken sobs. And me, helpless, forced to watch, chained like an animal, just like I am now. I was supposed to protect them. I was supposed to keep them safe, and I failed.

The tears come then, hot and bitter, spilling down my cheeks before I can stop them. I don’t deserve to cry. I don’t deserve to feel anything after what happened. But the pain is too much, the grief too heavy, and I can’t hold it back.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into the emptiness, my voice cracking with the weight of the words. “I’m so sorry.”

I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve fought harder. But Andrei was too powerful, and I was too weak. And because of that, they’re both gone. My sisters. My family. All because of him. All because of me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push the memories away, but they won’t leave. I see Mina’s smile, the way her eyes lit up when she laughed, the way she used to scold me for being reckless, for always picking fights. Mila, the quieter one, always watching, always following Mina like a shadow. They were everything to me.

And now they’re gone.

I don’t know how long I weep. The tears blur my vision, making everything hazy and far away, like I’m drifting somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe I’ll die here in this cell, and finally, the memories will stop.

The door creaks open, but I don’t react. It’s probably another guard, here to check if I’m still alive. I don’t care. Let them find me dead. It would be a mercy at this point.

But then I see her.

Mina.

She’s standing in the doorway, her face soft, her eyes filled with the same warmth I remember. For a moment, I think I’ve finally lost it. The hunger, the thirst, the pain—it’s all made me delirious. But she’s there. She’s really there.

I stare at her, my chest heaving with the effort to breathe, my mind struggling to make sense of what I’m seeing. She shouldn’t be here. She can’t be here. But there she is, her dark hair falling around her shoulders, just like it used to.

“Mina…” My voice is barely more than a rasp, raw from the dryness in my throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry I let him hurt you. I tried… I tried…”

The words choke me, and the tears start again. I hate myself for it, for being this broken, this weak. But she’s here, and I need her to know. I need her to understand.

She steps closer, and for a moment, I almost believe everything is going to be okay. Like maybe this is some twisted dream, and I’ll wake up to find her and Mila alive, waiting for me like nothing ever happened.

But I know better.

“Mina,” I whisper again, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t say anything, just looks at me with those soft eyes, full of something I can’t name. Forgiveness? Pity? I don’t know, and I’m too far gone to care. I just need her to know that I loved her, that I loved Mila, that I never wanted any of this.

“I failed you,” I murmur, my body shaking with the effort to speak. “I failed both of you.”

My vision blurs, and I can feel the world slipping away. The pain in my wrists fades into a dull throb, and everything around me grows distant, hazy. I don’t fight it. I don’t have the strength anymore.

And then everything goes black.