I jumped out of the Uber ride before rushing into the opened gate of ShipGo Warehouse. The opened gate indicated that Nick was already inside. I jogged briskly across the car park and into the opening of the warehouse but disappointed when I found out that the shutter was closed.

"Nick! Nick!" I called out for him, hoping for some response, but the sound of pigeons cooing returned my call.

It suddenly struck me that he could be in that tortured site where I was hung upside down. But it frustrates me that I couldn't recall where it's located within this large yard congested with shipping containers. Back then, it was dark at night and I was too beaten up to remember.

I scouted around the area, hoping that my memory would pick up on something significant. But when I heard crashing sounds and loud scream-like groaning of a man somewhere in a distance, I knew it was Nick. I rushed towards the approximate source of the sound until I finally found a familiar enclosed space, like a small warehouse, with its shutter opened wide.

My breaths shortened and my heart beating faster by every minute as I drew near the opening of that space. I saw Nick from afar lying face down on the dusty floor with light steam vapoured from his topless body. He vibrated into a few sudden spasms before going motionless.

My pace stopped dead when I caught one of his hand clamping a live frayed wire connected to an old portable power generator while his other free hand inching away from another live wire that was loose free. A few uneven slashed and punctured dried wounds seen on his upper back suggested a linkage to the bloodied blades in the bathroom.

Despite desperately needing to save him, I edged away knowing that I might be electrocuted if I touch him and would not be able to save us both. The enclosed space, presumably the torture room was equipped with all kinds of sharp tools and devices sufficient to disfigure a person; hatchet, hand saw, wooden mallet and swords hanging by the wall while a coil of cables, thick metal chains, WD-40 can, tool box, hand crank generator and a couple of cleaning bottles, used body bags neatly arranged on the shelf-rack. Old blood stains splattered across the wall suggested that many lives were tormented or taken in this room.

Frantically, I turned off both fuse box on the wall and the portable power generator near him, ensuring all forms of power sources were disconnected before I could remove him away. Then, I gingerly prodded both wires away from him with the tip of the mallet's handle, nudged him with the sole of my trainers to make sure no currents were present. When it was safe enough to touch him, I took off my trench coat and wrapped around his bare torso.

"Nick, can you hear me?" I probed for a response but there wasn't any. I checked for his pulse to find a slow throbbing on his wrist.

I inspected other parts of his body from head down to his feet for any other injuries that were immediately noticeable. His breathing was bearable, he had a slight burn on the palm from gripping the live wire. I took off my neck scarf and bounded his hand for temporary measure.

'What the hell are you doing here, Nick?' I asked quietly.

Nick's sudden gasping coughs relieved me. My instinct warned me to call the ambulance, but I wasn't sure if I wanted the paramedics to find out about this place. And I don't think conscious Nick would approve this idea either. Regardless, I should take Nick somewhere safer and warm.

My many attempts to carry depleted Nick out of this torture room failed miserably. His body was literally hot from the current and he was fricking heavy for a slender man. So, I did the most unthinkable. I singlehandedly yet strenuously placed him inside a used body bag and painstakingly dragged the bag out of the scene and into the office, praying that no one, especially the caretaker, would see me this way without making hasty speculations.

After successfully locating the body bag with him inside into the toilet, I removed him from the body bag, letting him lie sideways on the cold ceramic flooring with my trench coat still covering his body and left him there. My muscle suddenly felt a mild straining pain from relocating Nick outdoor to indoor and wished that I'd pay more attention to the strength workout Nick had planned for me.

I rushed into the small storage room where they stowed the safety gears to scavenge for something useful which later, I found a fire blanket on the plastic container. I returned to the toilet, replacing my trench coat with the fire blanket and folded my trench coat to make is as a pillow to support his neck. I grabbed a sponge, a basin and a water-filled drinking bottle from the pantry to clean his wound. Like an uncertified nurse, I made another vital check and so far, he still showed positive signs.

I roused him gently, "Nick, can you get up?" I inserted the spout of the drinking bottle into his mouth and carefully squeezed the water out to let him have a sip. But his nervous system remained irresponsive that the water spurted out from his mouth and wet the blanket. "Nick, get up. You need to drink up. You're dehydrating." I urged once more.

Nick slowly moved his lips, mouthed an inaudible whisper. I bent down, putting my ear closer to his parted lips as he finally uttered, "The name is Nekmat."