Misha opened his eyes to find he was still in his nightmare. He was tied down to an examination table, face up and staring at a white ceiling. His arms and legs were tightly bound. He could hear people moving around about him. He turned his head at a pinprick in his arm to see someone in green scrubs setting up an IV.
He remembered guards coming in to the holding area, and being ordered to go with them. When he didn't obey, two entered the cell to get him. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might've killed one when he rammed the man's nose into his brain. The other wouldn't be walking anytime soon. Guards poured in and somewhere in the melee, a tranq dart was shot into Misha's leg. He went down under a barrage of fists and kicks, but not before he damaged more guards.
The tranquilizer was wearing off now, in time for whatever they were pumping into him now to take affect.
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