meanwhile, elsewhere. there were secrets & recriminations. no one in New Moscow felt safe. someone had gotten Rocky 4 & put it on public access. the crypto-commies were feeling delicate at the moment. rice rations had been steadily falling off & the commisars were handing out weapons & ammo. a weapons to one comrade & a clip of ammo for it to the guy behind it. the rumor mill was abuzz with phrases like "80 percent casualities." compared to the leisureless lifestyles of the New Moscow pinkos, casual sounded real fucking nice.
his ribcage was opened up. it turned out his heart had been set upon by leeches. there was something in the offhanded way that he dealt with it that had sent everyone scurrying. nobody talks about the affairs of the heart with such non-chalance. it was clear to everyone who mattered that he'd been dead for some time. that magic & malice had kept him on his feet for so long, rather than blood & love. the leeches the surgeon was pulling out of his chest were as big as a baby's forearm. it was clear that they'd been living in there for a long time. that they'd been living off him for a long time. the sticky pads stuck to his forehead had stopped transmitting any beeps or bloops to the moniters for some time now, but the doctors just kept pulling the bloodsuckers off of his organs.