Russian FolktaleChapter 6
Nick's brain was fogged by the excruciating pain. His body was twisted in the unrelenting immobility of burning agony; his mouth was a frozen gaping rictus. The bare sheet on the bed was stained with his sweat, bile, and pathetic drips of urine. The once white canopy pressed down on his tortured limbs even if they never touched. His voice had gone hoarse from screaming a day ago, at least. His lips were split and bleeding; a drop of spittle burned the skin at the corner of his mouth. Nick...