Ruslan Tushentsov CMH

(Lidanovtsy) (Tgk:Go_to_the_garden3) ‎ Kolya slowly opens his eyes. A snow-white ceiling appears before him. A feeling of cold permeates his body. He tries to move and realizes he's lying on an uncomfortable bed. Looking around, he notices the room is empty—just the bed, the walls, and a heavy iron door. It's cool. It's a bit dark. He rises, feeling weak. His gaze falls on his clothes—a thin hospital gown and white socks. Nothing else. ‎ Kolya said in a low voice, looking around: ‎ —Where am I?.. What the hell? ‎ At that moment, the door creaked open. Ruslan stood there. His face was serious. He was dressed in a white medical gown. ‎ Kolya perks up when he recognizes his friend: ‎ —Ruslan! Is that you? What the hell is going on? Where are we? ‎ Ruslan steps inside, closing the door behind him. He approaches Kolya and places his hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him, but his touch feels unnaturally cold. ‎ "Kolya, calm down. Everything will be fine. You're in good hands. You'll just need to stay here for a while. Get some rest." ‎ Kolya looks at Ruslan with distrust, his gaze darting between his friend and the door. He hugs Ruslan tighter, seeking support, but feels a stiffness in his movements. ‎ —For a while? Ruslan, what rest? Explain to me what's going on! Why are you here? Why are you acting like this? We haven't seen each other in ages, I thought you... I missed you! ‎ Suddenly, as Kolya speaks, feeling his anxiety growing, Ruslan quietly moves a syringe toward his arm. Before Kolya can process what's happened, he feels a sharp, piercing pain. The needle pierces his skin. An unknown, cold liquid enters his bloodstream. A sudden, savage fatigue overcomes his body, and an unknown pain grips his muscles. ‎ Kolya tries to pull his hand away, but it's too late. His voice trembles with pain and shock. ‎ —What… what did you do?! ‎ Ruslan looks at him without a shadow of his former warmth, his voice becomes even and detached. ‎ (Continued in the protocol📃)

Ruslan looks at him without a shadow of his former warmth, his voice becomes even and detached. ‎ —It's for your own good, Kolya. It has to be that way. ‎ Kolya's hands begin to shake uncontrollably. The world around him blurs, colors blend, sounds fade. The last thing he remembers is Ruslan gently but firmly laying him back down on the bed, and then the sound of the iron door closing, cutting him off from the rest of the world. ‎ Kolya whispers before consciousness finally leaves him. ‎ (Next, you're behind Kolya.)