Where The Monsters SLEEP

She didn't scream.

Sofia opened her eyes and stared straight into Dmitry's face. His expression was hard, but his eyes looked tired. His hand slowly moved from her mouth. He stood above her in the darkness, calm, still, and fully dressed. The snow outside the broken window had stopped falling.

He did not blink. "You have to come with me."

Sofia sat up. She did not ask why. She did not reach for her gun. There was something in his voice she had never heard before. It was not fear. It was not anger. It was something older. Something heavier.

She rubbed her eyes. "If this is about Aleksandr's order, you can kill me here."

Dmitry shook his head. "No one's killing you. Not tonight."

"Then what do you want?"

He stepped back and picked up a bag near the door. "Someone wants you dead before morning. And she is not patient."

Sofia stood. Her hands were already shaking. "Ksenia?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He looked away. "Because you kissed me."

Sofia stared at him for a full minute. "You're joking."

He did not answer.

"Wait," she said, walking closer. "She wants to kill me because we kissed?"

"She also wants to kill you because she is bored. And jealous. And tired of being ignored."

Sofia ran a hand through her hair. "This city is full of children with guns."

Dmitry did not smile. "Then come with me. Or die here."

She grabbed her coat and followed him down the stairs.

There were no guards at the safehouse door. There were no cars outside. Only the sound of the wind, and the quiet engine of the black SUV waiting at the corner. Igor sat in the driver's seat, his eyes fixed on the road.

When he saw Sofia, he nodded once. "Seatbelt. Please."

Sofia got in. Dmitry sat beside her. The car moved before the door closed fully.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Dmitry replied without turning. "Somewhere no one can find you."

She laughed once, without joy. "Another cage."

"This one has a fireplace."

She turned to him. "Is that supposed to make it better?"

"No," he said. "But it might make it warmer."

They drove for three hours in silence. The road narrowed. The trees became thicker. Snow fell again, quietly this time, like it was too tired to make a sound. Igor said nothing. He drove like a man who had already accepted death and was just trying to arrive on time.

When they reached the cabin, it looked empty. The roof sagged slightly. The chimney coughed smoke into the air. The steps creaked when they walked.

Dmitry opened the door. "Stay inside. Do not open the windows. And do not try to leave."

Sofia stepped in without speaking.

The cabin smelled like pine and old firewood. There was one bed. One chair. A small fireplace that gave off more light than heat. A kettle sat on the stove, already boiling.

She walked to the window and looked out. There were no roads nearby. No streetlights. No towers. No signs of the world. Just snow and cold.

"You really went all out," she said.

Dmitry dropped the bag near the bed. "Ksenia will not find you here."

Sofia turned to him. "Why are you protecting me?"

"Because I am tired," he said. "And I am done watching people I care about disappear."

She crossed her arms. "Care about?"

He sat on the edge of the bed. "You know what I mean."

Sofia's voice became harder. "You beat a man to death last week."

"And I gave fifty million rubles to a children's hospital the same night."

She walked closer. "That doesn't balance it."

"I know."

She stood in front of him now. "You kidnapped me."

"I saved your life."

"You're not a hero."

He looked up at her. "You're not a victim either."

They stared at each other.

She wanted to hit him again. He wanted her to. She could see it in his eyes. That strange desire for punishment. That twisted craving for pain that felt like love.

She slapped him.

He caught her wrist.

She stepped forward.

He stood.

They kissed again.

This time, there was no hesitation.

It was not sweet. It was not soft. It was not gentle. Her teeth cut his lip. His fingers dug into her back. She bit his neck hard enough to draw blood. He dragged her coat from her shoulders. She pushed him against the wall.

He gasped against her mouth. "You're insane."

"You're worse," she said.

He pulled her hair.

She moaned into his mouth.

Then she shoved him back.

They were both breathing hard. Their clothes were torn. Their skin marked. The fire crackled in the background.

Sofia looked at him, her lips swollen. "This is stupid."

"Yes," Dmitry said.

She stepped back. "I hate you."

"I know."

"I want you to die."

"So do I."

They stood in silence. The snow outside was falling faster now. The wind rattled the old glass.

Dmitry sat on the floor and leaned against the wall.

Sofia walked to the chair and sat slowly.

"Why me?" she asked.

He wiped the blood from his lip. "Because you do not lie. Because you do not smile when you do not mean it. Because you're the only person in this city who does not want anything from me."

"That's not true," she said quietly. "I want you to pay."

He nodded. "Then you'll have to keep me alive."

She laughed once. It was short and bitter.

He looked at her from the floor. "What are you thinking?"

She looked at the fire. "I'm thinking I should have let Ksenia kill me. It would have been simpler."

Dmitry lay back on the wooden floor. "She would have made it slow. She likes stories."

Sofia shook her head. "What is wrong with you people?"

He closed his eyes. "Everything."

Silence again.

Then Sofia said, "What if someone finds us?"

"They won't."

"If they do?"

"Then we fight."

She sighed. "I hate fighting."

He smiled without opening his eyes. "You're good at it."

She watched him. His chest rose and fell slowly now. His breathing was quiet. His body looked like it belonged in a hospital or a battlefield. He was bleeding from her nails. And he was not moving.

"Don't sleep yet," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm still angry."