Teru

Ringing. It was the first sound Teru heard as he stirred awake. The futon on the grimy tatami floor was oddly comfortable—unusually nice, warm, and soft.

Yuta… Did he buy me… a new bed for Christmas? I… always wanted one. 

That never-ending chime wouldn’t let up as he tried to open his eyes. A thick layer of sleep crusties made that difficult. Moving his hand to wipe them off felt like the most difficult chore in the world. Limbs heavy. Brain fog. A pounding headache.

Ouch, my head. He wondered groggily, What…?  

Even thinking a simple thought was hard labor.

I want to… sleep… a little more.

So he did, unaware of the chained cuff secured around his ankle.

***

The second time Teru awoke, it was from exactly that.

A cold, heavy thing touched his right foot. Not thinking anything of it at first, he wiggled his leg as if the strange object was nothing more than a mosquito.

A mosquito during this time of year?

His eyes fully opened, not so challenging this time. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted him bright and early in the morning. The paint was too white. There was no speck of dust, cobwebs, or black mold around the edges. The holes ‌that required caulking or replacement were gone.

Yuta wouldn’t clean the ceiling tiles. Heaven knows I’ve tried to get him to help me since I can’t reach that high. 

He noted that the ear ringing was mostly gone; still there a bit, but not deafening out the other noises. An ambulance siren sounded in the distance. The direction seemed to come from… below.

Throbbing pulsed behind his eyes. This felt different from the painful migraines that made him man down for a day. This was deeper. Confusing. Totally out of commission for what felt like could be weeks on end.

Did I hit my head? I hardly remember.

If only he could recall what the hell happened and where he was—

Teru realized the cold metal touching his skin. It wasn’t his imagination or leftover dreams. Ignoring the stars falling across his blurry vision and nausea ravaging his upset stomach, he struggled to sit up. The heavy-headed pressure weighed on his brain as his fingers found a…

What the fuck is this?

He jiggled the silver cuff locking his ankle, like he was a criminal. His gaze followed the thickened chain. The other side led to an industrial hook installed in the wall. The links were several feet in length, long enough to at least explore the room.

What the fuck is that?

A needle was lodged into the back of his hand. Medical tape held the sharp tool in place. His heart thumped wildly when he saw the hanging pack of mysterious, clear liquid being actively injected into his system. 

D-drugs? Am I being drugged?

Panic settled as his dreams turned into a nightmare.

And where the fuck am I?!

This room was bigger than his and Yuta’s entire apartment. Even a single night in a hotel of this standard would be way out of their budget. 

“Y-Yuta?” Teru attempted to call out, but his hoarse voice was a mere whisper.

Snippets slowly returned. Each one caused a visceral reaction, like gasping, wincing, and pulling his hair:

Coming home after work to find the apartment empty.

The home invasion. 

Being attacked. Hit. Bloodied. Dragged. Kidnapped.

Learning he had been sold.

Hearing a gun go off.

Death.

A burgundy-haired man with a face only seen in dramas or movies. That cold glare aimed at Teru as if he were a nuisance.

The final memory was of a red string tied to his finger. The other end had been tied to—

“I-I-I gotta… I need to go… Yuta is waiting for me. Right. This is a huge misunderstanding. Yeah.” His rambling went on about this being a massive mistake.

Because there was no way his soul could handle an act of betrayal that huge. The thought alone made Teru cry out, tears wetting his cheeks. As he fumbled off the bed—an actual bedframe, not a futon on the floor—he tumbled off. The needle ripped out of his hand, skinning off a good few layers of flesh. Blood squirted from the tear, staining the white hospital gown which wasn’t his. 

The chain clanged on the wooden tiles. In hysterics, Teru lifted his trembling hand, unable to fathom the crimson ribbon disappearing through the wall. Impossible. Impossible!

Wake up! Wake up!

He couldn’t. The only method he knew how was to hurt himself and force his stubborn, sleeping body awake.

And he went crazy to make himself rouse: yanking the chain until his ankle bled, pounding against the window, punching holes through the wall, scratching the floor, which tore off several nails, plowing his frail body into the door, and screaming.

Nothing worked. 

This. This was real life. His reality.

Exhausted, dizzy, and injured, Teru crawled into the narrow space between the wall and the bed. He cowered, forming a shivering ball. An unknown amount of time passed as he weakly tugged on the uncanny string over and over again. Bleeding. In pain. Lost.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

Teru looked up, puffy eyes finding the door. He did not hear footsteps, but someone...

Whose heartbeat is this?

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

It’s not mine. 

The rhythm was much slower than his erratic one.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

The second heart he could detect came closer. And closer. Closer…