ABSOLUTE INSANITY: A forbidden bond-Chapter 164: Screaming

Chapter 164: Screaming
Chapter 164
KATYA POV
White. Everything was white.
At first, I thought I was back in my room, staring at the white walls I had grown to call a sanctuary.
But the air was different. It didn’t smell like the expensive wax of the manor or the faint lavender of Nonna’s tea.
It smelled of chemicals. Of cold metal. Of death kept at bay.I tried to move, and the world shifted.
A scream died in my throat, replaced by a wet, pathetic wheeze. My back wasn’t a part of my body anymore; it was a sheet of molten lead, pinned down by a thousand white-hot needles.
Every time I tried to draw a breath, the fire flared anew, lacing across my skin until my vision blurred into grey.
Whack.
The sound echoed in my mind. I flinched, my body jerking instinctively, which only sent a fresh wave of agony through my spine.
"Shh... Be still." The voice was a low vibration, cutting through the fog of my pain. I forced my eyes open.
The lids felt like they were weighted with stones. The room was dim, the only light coming from the glowing monitors beside my bed.
The steady beep... beep... beep... was the only thing keeping me anchored to the earth. I wasn’t on my stomach.
I was propped up on my side, pillows supporting my weight so that nothing touched the ruin of my back. I saw the shadow before my eyes failed me.
The darkness didn’t stay. It wasn’t the kind of sleep that offered rest; it was a thick, suffocating swamp that pulled me under, only to spit me back out into a nightmare.
I felt like I was floating above the bed, looking down at a broken doll that happened to have my face. I wasn’t in my body anymore.
I was a ghost, hovering in the corner of a room that was vibrating with a sudden, violent energy.Then came the noise.
It started as a low hum in my ears, like a swarm of angry bees, before it sharpened into voices.
Shouting. Screaming. The sounds were jagged, cutting through the haze of the painkillers like a serrated blade.
"How dare you!" A female voice shrieked. It was high, brittle, and filled with a frantic, desperate edge.
It sounded like glass shattering against a marble floor.I knew that voice. My mind tried to retreat, tried to dive back into the black water where the whistling wood couldn’t find me.
Then came the counterpoint. A male voice.
It wasn’t a shout; it was a roar. A deep, guttural sound that shook the very foundation of the room.
The words were heavy, each one landing like a blow from a hammer. I felt the panic start to rise, a cold, oily slick spreading through my mind.
I was out of my body, yet I could feel the atmosphere in the room turning toxic. The air felt heavy, charged with a lethal static that made my skin crawl.
Who where they? Why were they here? Why wouldn’t they let me stay in the white void?
Whack. The memory of the strike pulsed in my nerves. The pain, which had been a dull throb, suddenly flared into a blinding, agonizing scream of white light.
I was being pulled back. The tether between my soul and my broken flesh was tightening, dragging me down from the ceiling and forcing me back into the ruin of my skin.
No. Please. Not again. I felt the pillows beneath me. I felt the wetness on my back side. The desperation hit me again.
A raw, gasping need to escape. I tried to move my hand, but it felt like it was made of stone. I tried to call out, to tell the voices to stop, to tell the voices to save me, but my throat was filled with the taste of copper and salt.
The shouting grew louder. The woman screaming with a cracking voice.
The floor seemed to tilt. The beep of the monitor accelerated, a frantic pitat-pitat-pitat that matched the skyrocketing pulse in my neck.
I was back in my body now, and the transition was a catastrophe of sensation. I felt the fire on my back. I felt the cold sweat on my forehead. I felt the sheer, paralyzing terror of being trapped in a bed while a war raged over my head.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but I couldn’t block out the sound of a chair being thrown, the smash of a tray, and the sudden, terrifying silence.
I was gasping, my lungs hitching in small, shallow bursts. I wanted to run. I wanted to hide in the white walls. But I was pinned, a butterfly under glass, waiting for the next strike to fall.
The silence was worse than the shouting. It was the silence of a held breath. The silence of a finger on a trigger.
I felt a hand touch my arm. I didn’t see who it was. I only felt the heat of the skin. I let out a broken, high-pitched whimper.
My body convulsing in a frantic, desperate attempt to get away from the touch, to get away from the room, to get away from the pain that was finally, truly, waking up.
I felt my eyes leaking, hot tracks of tears carving through the grime and salt on my skin. The wetness pooled around my face, soaking into the thin pillow.
It was a miserable, humid heat that made the coldness of the room feel even more abrasive, forcing my eyelids to crack open.
My vision was a muddy sea of shapes, colors bleeding into one another like a watercolor left in the rain.
I blinked, and the blur began to resolve into two distinct figures. One was a dark, towering silhouette standing near the door.
The air around him seemed to vibrate with a lethal, suppressed energy. Even through my haze, I recognized the breadth of those shoulders, the terrifying stillness of a man who was one breath away from total destruction.
He looked at me—a brief, searing glance that felt like it burned through the bandages on my back—and then he moved.
He didn’t speak. He just turned, his hand gripping the heavy handle, and threw the door open. He stepped out with a bang on the door.
The vibration traveled through the floor and up into my bed, sending a jolt of electricity through my raw nerves.
I let out a choked, ragged sob, my frantic eyes darting around the room as I tried to ground myself, making me see the second figure.
Sitting in a wheelchair, parked just a few feet from the side of my bed, was Nonna.
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Hey guys, How is the Chapter an the last three before this.