Cold.
Everything was so goddamn cold.
Viktor's teeth were clattering uncontrollably, his body shuddering. The back of his head was bleeding. He could tell because that was the only warm spot on his body.
His vision was a gauzy blur, everything in sight smudged and smeared. He was being dragged through ice.
A hoarse voice was all that filled his otherwise buzzing ears. It was reciting a poem. Something Viktor had read somewhere before, though he couldn't remember where.
"But iron grows so heavy,
When it houses hollow bones.
And love is a lonely road,
When built on borrowed stones."
They stopped. Viktor tried moving his body, but it refused his command. He wheezed softly, then a little louder as a foot stomped down on his gut.
"Now I'm lighter in the wreckage,
Now I'm basking in the applause.
The finest thing I ever did,
was unbecome the man I never was."
